Tennessee Whiskey
by reiseininaru
Summary: An 'incident' in the conference room leads to conflict, but creates an inseparable bond between a Chinese and American boy. [ rated M for nsfw, gore, & domestic abuse. amechu / abusive rochu. was formerly titled 'eternal flame' ]
1. Arc 1 - Passions

"Remind me why you called a meeting at four-in-the-morning…?" A thick Chinese accent contends, followed by a soft yawn shielded by his palm. Although it was so early in the morning, the sun still expecting to rise within hours, the meeting differed none than any other one they'd propose, "It's far too early to deal with all of this."

"I couldn't sleep 'cuz of all the shit goin' on, and it was bothering me so I wanted to hurry up n' get it off my chest!" The American of the diverse group of nations flashes a wide toothy-grin, bags under his eyes as he watches the British and French men squabble at each other.

The Russian takes his normal role in the meeting, polishing his pick-ax as he obliviously crushes the whimpering Canadian below him upon the chair he was sitting on. Wait – is there _anything_ really there … ?

A sigh escapes Yao's pale lips; too weary to put up a fight. He groggily makes his way to the far-corner of the table, reclusing himself from the other arguing younger nations. Since he is already awake, he places his backpack upon his lap and scrounged through it, searching for his file folder in order to complete some paperwork. He takes a sip of coffee before starting, taking the ear-muffs out of his pocket and inserting them into their assigned lubes, and proceeds with his assignments. 

* * *

As time goes by, he must've gotten too involved with his paperwork, for when he completes and takes his ear-muffs out, the room looks as if it were a ghost town. Yao suddenly fixates his gaze towards the direction of a loud snort, Alfred sitting across from him; sound asleep. His head is burrowed into his arms, drool leaking from the corner of his grinning lips and trickles down his chin. Yao lets out another sigh and massages his temples, placing his folder back into his sack.

He suddenly looks back at Alfred. For some reason, he has the urge to awake him, but another side of him wants to … _watch_ him? Yao folds his hands, letting his chin recline upon them. His eyes remain fixated on a slumbering Alfred, his back rising and falling as he snores silently, Yao biting his bottom lip to stifle a small grin. He couldn't help it; he really did look adorable, and he was all for aesthetically-pleasing things. But this time … why was it Alfred?

He proceeds to observe the American's face. It radiates with charisma and determination, which is a given – it's what his nation stands for, after all. From the plastered grin on his face to the slight freckles scattering his body, it was enough to make Yao want to cuddle him all the more. He stares at the transparent lenses on his glasses for a moment, pondering if he should remove them. He breathes a sigh through his nose and cautiously leans over the table barricading them, gently removing the accessory, before folding them neatly and placing them to his right.

Alfred stirs a bit at this gesture, but remains in a deep sleep. Yao shakes his head,  
"What am I going to do with you?"

As he prepares to leave and organize his belongings, another quite loud snort comes out of Alfred, causing Yao to jump slightly and take him out of his trance. The American mumbles incoherent words for a second, clenching his fists, causing his knuckles to whiten. Yao observes this, jumping a bit more once growls escape his mouth.  
"Le'm go … y'asshole …" He begins to pound the desk vigourosly, "… y'r g'na hurt 'em…! Yao'z g'na **_GET HURT! LET HIM GO!"_**

A nightmare.

Yao is stunned by his words, but takes action immediately. Since the table separating them is too far to run around, he jumps across instead, almost samurai-like. He kneels down beside the screaming Alfred and massages his knee, trying to shush him and draw him out of his nightmare.

" _Snap out of it … it's alright … you're having a nightmare … ssshh …_ "

Alfred's eyes snap open as if a bullet was shot into his back, releasing a terrified yelp. He clutches his racing heart as he pants quickly, decelerating as he made out his surroundings. As he tries to recollect his vision, he ultimately fails to, realizing his glasses are off. Before he's able to feel for them, he feels a small pressure tugging his knee.

He looks down and sees a concerned Yao, his amber eyes suddenly dilating before releasing, folding his hands onto his lap with a small blush plastered to his cheeks.

"Oh, hey, bro!" He fails to notice the tears running down his own cheeks, Yao grabbing a hankercheif from his shirt pocket to remove them gently, "… man, that was a weirdass dream. Thanks for gettin' me outta there n'all."

"I do not wish for gratitude. It was my natural instinct." Yao places the drenched hankercheif back in its original location, cracking his knuckles and standing up.

"Whatever, nerd," He flashes another wide grin before putting on his glasses, standing up and stretching out. Yao does the same and grabs his bag, about to exit the door before Alfred's words from earlier suddenly chimed in his mind.

 _'I couldn't sleep 'cuz of all the shit goin' on, and it was bothering me so I wanted to hurry up n' get it off my chest!'_

Yao pauses in his tracks and looks back at the blonde behind him, Alfred tilting his head slightly in confusion. Yao hesitates for a moment – what if he was invading his privacy by asking him what his dream was? He erases the thought before saying,  
"Alfred …" He never calls him Alfred unless something is serious, "… might I inquire about the dream you had …?"

"Oh, uh …"

"I apologize. It's an invasive question, if you wish not to talk about it I completely understand."

"No, no, it ain't that. I'll tell you just …" He trails off before rubbing the back of his neck, "… don't tell anyone else 'bout it. I gotta rep to maintain, y'know."

"I wouldn't think of it." Yao offers a warm smile, Alfred shooting back the same grin before they sit back down at the table, but closer toward the door this time, "Now then, inform me."

"Well … the axis. They're getting closer n' closer to figuring out where we are and stuff and … I guess I'm just fearing the worst," The last sentence comes out as a choke, being reminded of what exactly happened in his dream, "I guess it's just all hitting me now. And to be honest … it's kinda scary. Not just for my people, but yours, too. All of us, really. These dreams I've been havin' have all been the exact same lately, but they feel worse each time … it fuckin' _sucks_ , man. And in every single one you guys are getting hurt in someway. And every time I'm getting held back while they just … torture you guys. I'm the hero … I'm supposed to be the one protecting you guys, and I'm just standing there helpless … I don't want any of you hurt like that … not even Arthur."

Tears begin to pour out of Alfred's eyes oncemore, Yao feeling nothing but sympathy and empathy for the young nation. He takes his palms into his own, stroking them comfortingly.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Yao leans slightly closer to him, his eyes locking with Alfred's, Alfred nodding slightly before releasing a sniff, "… I can't help but relate in a way. I was terrified of the Asian countries being ripped away from me. Ivan always threatened it, he wanted them to become one with him. He – wanted _me_ to become one with him. He still does … and I still have nightmares about it, constantly. Where I give in and he wins. But, sometimes … it sounds silly, but …" He becomes reluctant to release the sentence itching to escape his lips, Alfred looks all the more concerned, "… I look to _you_ for strength."

Alfred's baby-blue eyes dilate out of shock. After all he just vented about his fears, how can he suddenly say this? Yao fidgets with his fingers out of nervousness, anxiously waiting his response.  
"I – really…?" A blush dusts across his pale cheeks, Yao tightening his grip on his hands.  
"You're so young … and so carefree and energetic all of the time, it's hard not to. I'd give anything to have your outlook on things, you're always so determined and strong." He can't help but blush as well, staring down at the white tablecloth below them, "Mêiguó … I translate: Beautiful Country. I chose that term for your country long ago. I thought it suited you perfectly. I want you to believe that."

Before he's able to explain any further, he finds his mouth being captured by his friend's in what he is now registering as a disheveled, but nonetheless, warm and passionate kiss. 

Completely caught off-guard at the sudden gesture submitted by the nation, he finds himself unable to make any sort of reciprocation. Where is this coming from? And mostly - why? In his 4,000 years of living, he has been involved in a number of relationships, and make-out sessions, naturally, but it had been so long since then. Despite the inability to return the gesture, Yao observes Alfred's lips to be soft, welcoming and hot. Yet chapped. He regains the senses in his face, twitching his own lips and tilting his head slightly to accommodate the other's. Whether its from free-will or some kind of reaction, the elder isn't sure. But he is definitely aware that it feels…good?And just as he was beginning to adjust to the pleasure exerted upon him, Alfred quickly separates their lips and steps away from the nation.

"Oh…fuck." He mumbles under his breath. Yao looks up to be greeted by a flustered and anxiety-ridden Alfred, who is backing away slowly, before Yao takes a small step towards him.

"Why…"

"Oh, god, dude, I…I wasn't thinking, I just -"

"- why did you stop?"

His inquiries intentionally arouse Alfred more, although he was desperate to hide it. The kiss…he meant it. He loved it, he would most certainly treasure it, too. Why did he stop? If he had known how much pleasure Yao had receieved, he would have definitely progressed, and might have even went deeper.

Yao takes notice to his nervousness, and decides to take responsibility and initiative. He takes a couple steps further to his objective, their faces but centimeters away. Alfred gazes into his chocolate-brown eyes, wondering what he's doing… it becomes all the more intense and arousing. His thin pale fingers reach carefully, softly brushing aside Alfred's bangs, and then slowly trailing downward, tracing the frame of his jaw. At the touch, Alfred only seems to stiffen, causing Yao to release a silent 'ssh'.

His thumb carefully brushes over Alfred's labium, as if testing their softness, causing Alfred to shiver at the tickling sensation. He finally leans in, taking purchase of his lips with pleasure. At first, he is timid, cautious. For the moment, Yao is the only one providing kindling to the kiss. His own lips engaging with limited, almost dire friction. It doesn't feel at all like it did a few minutes ago. Alfred seems a bit disinterested and reserved. Maybe it's a bit too…dry? He observes Alfred's lips to feel parched…chapped. To remedy this, he wets his tongue over them briefly, and returns his lips to exploring. At this, she can hear Alfred tremble slightly at the sensation, releasing a small whimper.

Suddenly, the confused and disinterested Alfred, seems to take interest, registering the sensation. He takes his arms away from his chest, meekly placing them over Yao's thighs.

His lips willingly move against Yao's with an almost reluctant fervor. Slow and methodical. His lips are incredibly soft, and now slick with a benevolent coating of saliva. Alfred at one point, threatens to sink his teeth into Yao's lower lip, claiming it for a moment, earning a gasp from the elder. Yao pulls away for a few seconds, now becoming acquainted with the rising heat in his cheeks. His eyes, half-lidded, fastens onto his opponent's, curious.  
This time, Alfred is the one to close the gap, reclaiming Yao's lips hungrily. His hands, moving from thighs to hips and pulling him closer. Yao's breath begins to hitch, startled by the sudden dominance. He accepts the younger is in control, and grasps onto his shoulders to steady himself, daring to imitate Alfred in biting his lip. He feels Alfred smile in reply. A shiver travels through his spine and he repeats the gesture, enjoying the idea of pleasuring the other. He rakes his teeth over Yao's lips, biting harder and more depraved.

The need to ravage the American boy grows stronger, and soon his saliva-coated mouth is working down to Alfred's neck, but just as soon as his mouth makes contact with the desired flesh, he is gently pushed back, much to his displeasure. He manages to contain a groan, wondering if he was getting too greedy; it would be most dishonorable. As if this wouldn't be considered dishonorable enough, but the thought failed to enter his head.

Alfred, with darker color burning in his face, expresses a small grin. "You're getting pretty wild, bruh. You wanna kiss me, not eat me." Yao becomes aware of the distasteful amount of sweat drawing all over his anatomy, mostly his face, neck, back and between his thighs. Its definitely disgustingly uncomfortable, yet…feels exhilarating in a way. The thrill of the experience was amazing, he almost never wants it to cease. But he knows better.

"I'm sorry…" Yao breathes shakily. "Should I stop…?" Alfred mulls for a moment, his grin fading. "Y-yeah you might wanna…" He says weakly. Yao obliges and immediately backs away. He obviously didn't wish to stop, but it's noon, and besides, he's already exhausted. He wants to go home and nap, but he doesn't want to be in a presence without Alfred at the moment.

"I apologize…it's been so long since I've experienced something like this. It feels nice, but…I'm no expert on this sort of pleasure." Yao assumes.

"Nah, it ain't that, dude." Alfred leans his back to the wall, "I just don't want you to get…too caught up in this. You kinda do that sometimes…"

"…hm? What do you mean?" He probes, trying not to take it to heart.

"Like…you might be really excited now, but what if it's just 'cuz you're in the moment? You said it's been a while since you've been in a relationship, and…" He stares at the ground, avoiding eye-contact, "I don't want this to be here today and gone tomorrow, y'know?"

"I'm not doing that now. I'm aware of my senses and I'm confident that this is a real thing. You're not an object." Yao assures him with a frown.

"Hey, let's just…take some time off. Jus' to see how you're feeling later. You could just be wound up right now." Whatever heat Yao was expecting slowly and sadly drains away. Alfred might be right, but again, he isn't sure. "Alright." He replies with a tint of sorrow, "How long do we have too - I mean…how long should we wait before…doing this again?" Yao assumes that was poorly worded. He clicks his tongue, silently scolding himself.

Alfred shrugs, facing the door. When he opens his mouth, a sudden sound of shattering glass chimes throughout the room, a small 'kolkolkol' chanting into their ears. The duo instantly whips their heads around towards the sound, Yao's heart falling to the pit of his stomach.


	2. Arc 1 - Say Something

summary: yao & alfred get punkd  


* * *

"Privet!" Ivan, seemingly buoyant, hops off the large ladder that had brought him up to the floor the duo was on, allowing it to fall.

Yao is experienced, and not in a good way. He knows better and can read between Ivan's lines that he is not at all what he seems. Glass is sparsely scattered among the floor, along with a couple drips of Ivan's red blood from jumping through it.

Alfred is definitely cautious and paranoid of why he was here, but shields his arm over Yao's chest, prepared to defend. Yao curses iternally to himself, not prepared for what was ever about to happen. Ivan tilts his head at the duo's state, but staples a soft grin on his face, slowly stepping closer and placing his hand upon Yao's head, applying pressure to the blood rushing upwards.

"I-Ivan...! Whatever are you doing here!" Yao offers a toothy, exaggerated grin. He sounds fishy to Ivan, but he needed no explanation, anyways. He was a spector of the entire event, and although his exterior said otherwise, he was boiling with jealousy and anger.

"I see it that you two get along fondly, _da_?" That tone. It made Yao want to stab his own ear-drums. As he parts his lips to retaliate, a sudden strong punch is thrown to his gut, causing the Chinese to release a weak ' _oof'_ , before dropping to his knees.

" _ **YAO!**_ " Alfred bends down to assist his lover, oblivious to the bleak, purple aura illuminating before him.

Starting to breathe heavier, feeling the stimulation of adrenaline, Ivan increases the intensity of his pressure, landing his crow bar onto the American's head. Alfred's body pauses as his eyes dilate, slipping into unconsciousness as he falls to the floor with Yao.

Yao can't even feel the wet tears soak his face, letting his temper reach its peak before standing up. He knows he's going to have to fight this out. He wants to fight it out. He didn't intend for the reminders of this tension, exasperation, heartbreak, and abuse from the past to weaken him. He was stronger than that.

" _ **YOU BASTARD!**_ " Yao shrieks as he punches Ivan clear across the face with all of the strength he can muster, not caring for the sheer size of him. And strength.  
Ivan takes a hold of Yao's wrist with an uncomfortable grip, throwing the bar out of his other hand and placing it on his shoulder. Yao struggles to break free as Ivan twists his arm, letting out a pain-filled howl and a crack of bones. Yao opens his mouth to curse at the Russian but is interrupted by a sudden strong hand slap his cheek, followed by a kick to his crotch, causing him to fall on the floor once more.  
Yao is in tears at this point not only from the anger, but the excruciating pain. But he isn't willing to give up. He feebly attempts to rise from the ground but is pinned down by a knee-down, grinning Ivan, Yao putting up a struggle with the remaining strength he has.

" _ **When I said you were mine, I meant it,**_ " His mouth is directly into Yao's ear, his body cringing as the tingling and frightening vocal chords traveled into his hearing, sending a shiver up his back, " ** _Playing with Alfred was a mistake_**."

He takes his crowbar, giggling at Yao's attempts to free himself from his restrainer, " _ **And mistakes need to be fixed or they will be repeated, da?**_ "

Yao sobs and squirms as Ivan turns him over, leaving him to lay on his abdomen. Ivan slowly rises his shirt to reveal a long, whitened scar. Yao registers what he's intending to do, and immediately protests by kicking and sobbing.

" _ **ALFRED! GET UP!**_ " No response. This only makes Ivan click the tip of his mouth with his tongue as he rises his crowbar, flying it down towards the injury.

The conference room echoes with screams for hours more, until Ivan feels like he has pleasured himself enough.

* * *

" _Nnngh...goddamn..._ " Alfred's drawn back into unconsciousness hours later - but he seems to forget what happened. He's in a dark, bleak area and he can sense vision is blurred. Not like glasses would make much of a difference.

However, he is able to make out what seems to be an illuminated crack at the bottom of a door. He groans as he finally sits up and brings himself to his feet, walking toward the source of light and opening the door. He takes a moment to feel for his glasses, the light somewhat being of assistance. Once retrieving the accessory, he notices a bit of blood splattered among the iron floor, but something feels off. It finally kicks in.

Yao.

" _ **YAO!**_ " He screams as he runs through the large corridor, making out his surroundings as it echoes through the empty halls. He's still in the conference building and vividly remembers...

 _As he parts his lips to retaliate, a sudden strong punch is thrown to his gut, causing the Chinese to release a weak 'oof', before dropping to his knees._

He might be in the conference room.

Alfred hurries to search for the room, not having been on this floor before, yelling apologies.

"Yao, please, I know I said I wanted to stop but..." He trails off, becoming silent.

"I know you're probably pissed off, okay!? Its not that...I wanted you to stop, I didn't. I was just...afraid. Afraid of being used in some way. And I'm not saying that you would be that kinda person, but." Alfred swallows dryly, finding it difficult to admit to these things. He fails to notice how louder his apology is becoming, either.

Nothing.

"It's weird. All of this is just weird and I don't know how to deal with it. I never really thought you'd ever...feel that way. And when you...started showing me that you did, I just got even _more_ scared. I don't know why I said all that stuff, I don't know why I made you stop. That mattered a lot to me...and I loved it. I just..." He stops talking. The lack of response is making him even more nervous.

Still nothing.

"Look...man, this place is...really freakin' creepy. if you're still here can we just...talk again?" He tries. Again; nothing.

Alfred draws closer towards the conference room, opening the door immediately, and is hoping to discover a wide-awake and unharmed Yao. But instead is met with a horrifying scene.

As if he had been...beaten senseless, Yao's body is propped, held up by chains. He's completely nude and has more cuts, bruises, and burns than he had ever seen on anyone. Alfred is admittedly frightened, stiffing for a moment in shock and horror. He wanted to puke.

He runs over to Yao and brings a hand up to his lover's face, to see if he can get a reaction of some kind.

"...Yao...? Babe?" He tries quietly. Alfred inspects him closer. Yao's eyes, aside from appearing trance-like, are blackened around the sides and swollen. "Yo, Yao, you're freaking me out, come on. Snap out of it!" He demands, his worry increasing exponentially.

 _'What the hell did he do to him...'_ Alfred's anger boils, but knows his priority at the moment was to help Yao.

There's no discernible response. The only movement coming from his hands, which are trapped by the wrist to the wall.

He growls. "What the hell is going on?!" Now, he yells at no one. He brushes his thumb over Yao's cheek, as if trying to awaken him with tender and loving stimulation. The nation only gives a feeble, unconscious moan at the gesture.

Without thinking, Alfred begins breaking away at the chains, bare handed, that has laid claim to his boyfriend's body. Tossing bits and pieces behind him. The sounds echo off the walls of the room, and sounds of a panicked Alfred grow louder from elevating anxiety and panic. He frees Yao's legs, followed by his chest and arms.

When he's freed, Yao collapses wordlessly, swiftly caught by the younger nation. Alfred's eyes begin to tear up, afraid and confused. He strengthens his grip on an incapacitated Yao, staring down at him misty-eyed.

Is this his fault? Would Yao be alright if he wasn't so weak against Ivan, or...if he'd never even kissed him to begin with? If he would have just kept his lips to himself, would things have gone differently? He grits his teeth and his throat tightens, trying to combat the onset waves of self-hate. He plants a soft kiss upon his battered forehead.

 _"I'm so sorry, Yao..."_


	3. Arc 1 - Couch Potato

_the second half of this shit is filler jst so i can transition to the bigger parts coming up i promise it wont be as lame later  
_

* * *

The rain outside only seems to grow heavier as the skies grow darker; or is that just Alfred's imagination feeding off of his own fear? The only thing that is clear to him now is to keep going; to get Yao to safety.

In his arms, a now conscious, but extremely unresponsive Yao stares off into nothingness, as if mentally checked out. With every frantic step, the mud is sent flying and he loses her balance more than a few times. This state of being, this foreign crisis, it's maddening.  
His surroundings seem to be repeating; passing the same cars until he's able to reach his own. Everything is blurry from tears that keep welling up in his eyes. That, and the intense downpour seems to be fighting to keep Alfred from reaching his destination. How long has he been running? Was he just running in circles and loosing his mind at this point? Able to contain the adrenaline, he finally reaches his car and gently lays Yao in the benched backseats, taking refuge in the drivers seat to clear his thoughts enough to process all of this for a moment.

His breathing is ragged and uneven. His chest is hitching. He's too afraid to glance back at his comrade and see an absent expression. Alfred places his hands on his head out of stress for several several, taking in everything. He complies with the fact that he needs to head to hospice, gentle on the road to prevent further damage to the man.

Yao releases a feeble moan, a single tear trailing down the side of his eye. He's still in unspeakable pain, but is unable to express it well enough. Not only that, but he's angered with himself.

 _'I should've been able to take him on...he just keeps getting more powerful every time I see him_.' Yao contemplates internally, fixating his gaze over to Alfred. Luckily he was on his side, so he wouldn't have to adjust his posture to see him, as if he could anyways.

He wishes more than anything he could get up out of his seat to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but not only was he incapable of doing so - he didn't know if things would be 'okay'. He knew for a fact he was paralyzed. His ears are ringing and his eyes are blurred, he doesn't know what's going to happen to him, he's never been this injured before.

He breathes a silent sigh through his nose and shuts his eyes once more, wanting to take a break from the situation in the only way he could. 

* * *

_"Yeah, dude, he's been asleep for like, two weeks...ye_ _ **ah I guess, but - wait! Holy shit, dude, I think he's getting up! Okay-c'ya-then-peace!**_ "

A small noise awakes draws Yao from unconsciousness. A murmur.

"Yao?" The American chokes, looking down at the bed-ridden other. "Can you hear me?"

There's silence. Yao blinks sluggishly a few times and that's it.

Alfred grunts impatiently, getting eager at the first audible sound he'd heard since he found him.

"Okay, uh, if you can hear me...then blink once." He tries, almost holding his breath in anticipation. He brings his hand up to the side of the others face, gently.

Another pause, and Yao blinks again, weakly.

Alfred wants to be hopeful about such a small gesture, but instead finds himself frustrated. "Urgh! How do I know you didn't just blink for no reason? This is so weird... Alright, uh, blink if you're a massive nerd!" He keens, finding the situation already exhausting. He's practically plucking at his pants just to find a way to calm himself down. He waits impatiently for a reaction.

Yao squints at him, and seems to just barely manage a frown, accidentally blinking with it. He's to weak to try and force his eyes to stay still. He has a faint expression of a look of disappointment, or irritation. Alfred gets excited at this, letting out a frantic laugh.

"Alright uh...okay." He swallows hard, thinking of another question. "What's 2 + 2? Give the answer in blinks."

A weak groan comes from Yao's throat, and he slowly rolls his pupils. He's obviously in no mood to entertain. Alfred accepts this, knowing that this probably isn't the best place to examine his friend's condition with dumb questions.

"Okay okay, don't get sassy with me! I'm worried!" He justifies, "Assuming you just rolled your eyes at me." Alfred brushes a strand of Yao's hair shielding his eye carefully. "I'm going to get you better, Yao. I promise." He says out loud. Mostly to assure himself things would be okay.

Yao shows his affection at the gesture by allowing his lips to form a tiny, feeble grin, but grimaces suddenly at a sharp pain in his body. He's been aching all over, he knew Ivan had to have demolished every bone in his body.

It takes Yao a moment to notice the many casts healing his body. He looks like a mummy. He feels pathetic. He wants to take care of himself, he feels like an infant being cared for like this. He feels guilty that he can't even muster the energy to vent to Alfred about how angry he was with himself, let alone thank him.

"Well, Yao, if you were able to talk, I'm guessing you'd nag about wanting to do some samurai training or some shit." Alfred jokes exhaustively, mostly to amuse herself. His smile fades as he clears his throat, "Hey, uh, you've been bedridden for like, two weeks. Wanna be on the couch instead?"

Two weeks? Had he really been out for that long?

He has a point, however. He despises being this lethargic and weak, but he hated staying in one place for so long - plus the stretcher bed he's currently laying on is painfully uncomfortable. He offers a feeble nod.

"Well, erh, here goes nothin'." Alfred cracks his knuckles as he cautiously lifts up his lover.

He gently sets Yao down on the couch near the hospital bed in the living room, expecting him to at the least be able to sit up on his own. He gradually removes his hands to test the theory, but swiftly grabs him again when he starts falling backwards. Yao's face remains vacant and insipid.

Yao, trapped in his own thoughts, has initially accepted his inability to move or do anything. But is still frustrated. No matter what he does or how he goes about it, the limbs of his arms and legs remain unresponsive. It's not as if they're numb, he feels everything with almost a heightened sensitivity, but the only movements he can congress are slight finger twitches. How useful. He doesn't even remember when he got like this. He only remembers Ivan pinning him down, spitting in his face and trying to kick him off a few times, and then...nothing? It's all so dark. The only thing that really stuck in his memory was the strong smell of his vodka-smelling breath.

How long as he been like this? Hours? Days? Weeks? He can hardly recall when Alfred had found him. Just by recognizing his voice, he was drawn out of a weird trance.

Or not necessarily a trance... it was more like...he was getting ready to fall asleep, but was disturbed; interrupted. He didn't want to sleep, it just felt like he had no choice. Like he was being made to rest. The silence in the room soon felt like whispers, begging him to sleep.

His poor thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a door knock. He's unable to turn his head around to see who it is, but when Alfred opens the door and communicates with the visitor, he immediately recognizes Kiku's voice. He senses the sound of footsteps coming closer and can barely lull his head to look at him, Kiku grabbing a chair so Yao could have the couch. Just out of politeness.

"How much did he do to him? He really took a beating." Kiku inquires as he observes his brother, Alfred kneeling down next to him.

"Basically everywhere. I'm jus' tryna keep him comfortable for right now until he can walk n' stuff. Poor guy can't even talk."

Kiku's eyes remain vacant, but internally are heartbroken. They've definitely had their share of troubles in the past, and were even on opposing sides, but this was the man who raised him to be what he was today. It was a pity to see him like this.

Yao's eyes are drooping, begging him to go back to sleep, and it shows.

"Let's allow him to rest for a while," Kiku proposes, standing up, "He needs as much of it as he can get."

Alfred nods in agreement, as the two talk for a moment before Kiku takes his leave. He informs the two he's staying in a hotel nearby so he can visit often, and bids goodbye.

When Alfred comes back into the living room to check up on him, Yao's still wide awake, his face vacant as he's lost in his thoughts. But suddenly remembers something. He grabs Yao's bag that resided on the kitchen table, grabbing a certain prized possession of his.

"Hey, brought a friend," Alfred holds up a large stuffed panda-bear, Yao's expression lightning to its fullest extent as a small smile tugged at his face. Alfred chuckled and placed it next to him, Yao stroking its fur with the tip of his fingers as he drifted back into unconsciousness.

"Why you gotta be so cute?" He places a soft kiss on his forehead, taking his Captain America blanket and draping it over him. He perches down next to him on the couch and allows Yao's head to rest on his lap, running his fingers through strands of Yao's hair and trailing down his shoulders. He contemplates the situation for a moment, his eyes fixated on Yao's sleeping face, his lips slightly parted as drool trails down the corner of his mouth. Alfred chuckles at the sight and stares off onto the distance, yawning and allowing himself to trail off into sleep as well. 

* * *

_ok this took me the longest time to write for sme reason compared to the previous chapters but it only has like 1,724 Wtf The Fuck_


	4. Arc 1 - Guilty Pleasure

summary: lol fuck 

* * *

The past few days since Yao has re-awoken, have not surprisingly been tedious and jejune. The routine has been repetitive:  
Wake up, get - fed, get hair and teeth brushed, watch TV, nap, talk to any visitors that'd stop by to check up on him, nap, get fed again, nap, watch TV, and. sleep.

He's dependent on Alfred now. And he feels pathetic for it. He just wants to sit up and hug him. Tell him everything will be alright.

But he _still_ doesn't even know if that's true. He doesn't know if things will be alright. It's concerning, to say the least. There is one thing he's sure of. He regrets the disability of power he had against Ivan. He should have been able to have the last word and work things out. Then maybe he wouldn't have got the both of them injured and gotten himself messed up like this.

That's right... He can only blame himself for how things are now. If he'd just been able to work things out beforehand, things would be different...he wouldn't be laying here, dispensed and useless.

It is the regrets of what could have been that will haunt him.

He hears Alfred re-enter the living room. With a great deal of effort, he manages to tilt his head slightly to look at the taller man, carrying a load of towels and looking down at him, as if expecting something.

 _'I can't move, why are you giving me that look?'_ Yao thinks to himself, but then realizes it. That's not a look of expectation, but of worry. He can tell that he'd been crying. A lot. Which only makes Yao feel even worse for being in this state. It suddenly hits him.

The younger nation takes a seat next to Yao on the couch, and at first, Yao's reaction is to sit up and hug him, but that notion is quickly shot down for obvious reasons. He grunts internally.

"Uhm, kinda weird but..." He clears his throat, blushing mildly, "...do you think you should bathe?"

Yao's initial reaction is to chop his skull with the fore edge of his palm. But not only is he incapable of doing so in this state, but his inquiry is reasonable. He's been in the same bed and couch for weeks - he's all sweaty and painted with dried blood and it's certainly pungent.

Yao obliges and offers a reluctant moan.

"Yeeeeeeah this is stupid, I'm going to have to take your clothes off, dude."

Despite Yao's almost non-existent ability to reciprocate in any sort of way, he manages to give off a muffled, contorted whimper and lean forward, away from Alfred. Though the lean turns into him almost falling forward, he is saved by Alfred's quick reflexes from face-planting onto the tanned carpet floor.

"Hey, look at that, man. I made ya move!" He laughs halfheartedly, bringing Yao back up-right. "Look, we can do this the less hard way, or the hard way. Either way it's gonna get awkward."

Yao realizes that Alfred is being completely serious. He senses the burning heat creeping up into his face all-too-explicitly. After a few moments of more silence, Alfred comes to the conclusion that they're going to have to go about the hard way of this.

"Aww, don't tell me you're nervous, my man." Alfred pokes playfully, obviously still trying to come to terms with the situation through inappropriate humor. Yao feels hands around his abdomen, undoing his sash with senseless lethargy. Like being teased, though Yao knows that Alfred wouldn't dare do anything so crude. Being trapped in his mind is literal torture right now.

"See, look at this," Alfred explains, though it's not like Yao can even turn around to do so. Alfred gathers the sash in his hands. Yao is only upset at this because she can hear Alfred's disgust; it's all so sweaty and smelly.

The hands return, unzipping Yao's rouge mandarin jacket, taking it by the hem and slipping upwards. Insinctively, he was going to raise his arms to make this easier, but is met with more disappointment from unresponsive limbs. His clothes are so soaked in sweat and dry blood that they have to be practically peeled off his skin. The sensation is uncomfortable, not to mention leaving him frigid. He shivers at the feeling, which in itself is annoying because it's as of his body will only move when he doesn't envisage it to. His jacket is discarded onto the floor after being wrangled away from his anatomy.

All that's left in his body are the white pants and boxers. Alfred's been avoiding the idea of a bath for a reason - although they were partners now, they still had yet to see each others lower regions. Both of them are already experiencing a burning sensation in their face.

Alfred breathes a sigh through his nose and takes the tip of his silk bottoms, tugging them south gently as they peeled off his skin. He lifts him from the ground and takes him to the already bubbled, sultry water in the large tub in the bathroom.

Unnaturally, inquiries of how he could afford this failed to enter his mind, for the tranquility causes his muscles to begin to relax and release a sigh of contentment from his throat. For a few heartbeats he simply enjoys the respite, and allows himself to be lulled by the warm water.

His state is interrupted by a sudden... _giggle_?

Slowly, Yao musters enough stamina to tilt his head towards the golden haired man, his tiny golden cowlick standing proud (mimicking a certain part of Yao's lower body). He's also in the nude. His mischievous, come-hither blue eyes compeer with a saucy grin - barely not a smirk. Yao also can't help but stifle a chuckle as he notices a tad bit of chub on his body, which is awfully precious, no matter how much Alfred would gripe about it.

"Sorry, dude, water bill's gettin' high." His excuse to bathe with Yao is obviously sugar-coated. If Yao could speak at this very moment, his first instinct would be to vituprate and admonish this. All he can do right now is blush dementedly.

Yao prays to his ancestors and gods as Alfred places his glasses onto the floor and gradually lifts Yao, letting himself lean onto the wall of the tub, Yao reclining his gaunt body on his abdomen.

The sizzling of the bubbles and water and their delicate breathing is the only audible sound in the room.

Alfred's arms bind around his waist, taking notice to the tactility of his rib cage. He has been feeding him routinely, but he was aware that it was difficult for him. He's still pretty depleted and even his face is idle unless he forces it.

It's as if he is drugged.

Alfred's thoughts are hindered as he shifts his focus to his beau. Since he's like this, he wants him to experience as much pleasure and delectation and sways his hips gradually, resting a palm on Yao's leg and moving upwards with a fluttering touch that leaves goosebumps in its wake.

And that's when Alfred begins his revelry. He raises his torso up and the bubbles contained his hands slip through the faults of his fingers and trickle down his chest, playing with his pert nipples and letting out a little whimper. The sight of Alfred's fingers strolling their way towards his privates send the last bit of blood remaining anywhere other than Yao's groin straight to his penis. Yao's fingers twitched and he aches to reach out and rub against the dancing blond, but is incapable.

Alfred runs his fingers over his lips as he swiftly capsizes Yao, giving him a heated glance and smirk before grabbing a bottle of liquid soap and lathering it before wiping it over as much skin he could, over pink nipples, taut stomach and narrow hips. Supporting Yao's limp limbs, of course. His body is pressed up agaibst his, his head resting over Alfred's in the posture of an infant as rubs against the insides of his thighs, accidentally releasing a small moan.

Yao straightens and tenses. The most movement he's been able to form in what felt like years.

He has to admit; this is quite thrilling.

After Alfred finishes soaping up, the blond minx placing both hands on Yao's shoulders before he commences to 'cleanse' the Asian man. A soapy body presses against Yao and rubs. It was sinful. Dishonorable. Yao bites his bottom lip firmly to keep from moaning as he feels Alfred grind and rub against him... the soap from Alfred's body rubbing onto Yao. And those hands... those tan hands are underneath the water rubbing against Yao's pale flesh in every domain possible, excluding the one place Yao desperately desires for Alfred to touch. Every gram of self-control Yao is currently possessing went into keeping from bucking up or moaning. He just has to make it through this breathtaking, enchanting 'torture'.

Pink lips smirk, Alfred presses his body against the other. Skillfully cleaning nearly every inch of the other with his own body. Rubbing himself against the other's legs and chest and using his hands to clean the rest. Tan fingers stroke and massage soap over the Chinese gentleman's body, except for that one area. Of course Alfred is teasing the other, much to Yao's disfavor, letting his fingers run up the others thigh or down his stomach like he is going to touch the organ that was most likely throbbing with desire and lust but right before he would he changes his direction.

Alfred is amused. Yao is getting close to breaking, it seems. He feels the sensation of hips twitching beneath his hands. Alfred loves this game of his. Loves the way all these semes tremble under the uke. He freely admits to himself that he likes being on bottom, he likes having another body move above him, inside him... it's a miraculous feeling. But there's something appealing about knowing that HE has control, too. That the semes want him so badly that they would do their best to remain still just to keep him with them, torturing them, teasing them for a little while longer.

The feelings of power are seductive for Alfred.

Although, something feels a little bit off with Yao (one of his semes who bubble-bath call him the most). The man is normally much twitchier or would have started to scold Alfred for teasing him by now. It is making the uke suspicious.

Yao bites his lips in an attempt to keep the moans from Alfred's ministrations breaking free. Oh how he just wants to buckle into the other but if he does, he'll lose and be right back at the start. It's all part of his maniacal plan.

He has to make his move soon. No matter if it takes all the strength in him. The desire to ravish into the other is unbearable.

Yao lets out another hissed breath and at last, one of Alfred's palms ghost over Yao's member. Yao chokes back a grunt and barely manages to avoid bucking. Alfred giggles at his gesture.

"Well! I guess someone is ready for the next step?"

Yao resists a squeal. The time has come. Alfred proceeds to fixate his focus on kissing and licking south of Yao's body. Not noticing that one of Yao's flimsy hands have managed to grasp something outside Alfred's vision.

Alfred's warm tongue leaves thin trails of saliva over Yao's flesh as he licks and pecks down the emaciated but muscular body. Finally reaching the other's pelvic region, he kisses the base of Yao's organ. His hand ghost over the others member before grasping it thoroughly, stroking it, bringing it to full attention.

Blue eyes gleam at brown ones before returning to the task at hand, tan fingers stroking the organ.

"Y'know, this part's gotta get super clean," Alfred purrs, turning to seize more soap. It's mistake on his part, before he knew it a body is thrown onto him.

" _W-What!?_ " Alfred struggles to escape against the netting in vain.

" _...I...ne'r felt th's m' love...n' m' life..._ " Yao combats to release the sentence.

With astounding stamina Yao boosts the struggling man up and over his shoulder, carrying him to Alfred's bedroom. He almost falls over more than a handful of times, but manages to lay the still netted blonde onto the bed, not caring that they were both dripping wet.

"Dude! You're moving!" Alfred's body is shimmering from the bath water travelling down his skin, he shivers from the frigid air of the bedroom versus the warmth of the bathroom.

He was losing regulation, or rather...he has already lost it.

Alfred looks up at Yao who looks down with lustful eyes. Yao's erection throbbing with want to bury himself to the hilt in the blonde and now he's finally able to.

He can finally drink from the oasis that is Alfred.

And he's _very_ thirsty.

He finds himself reaching forward, insisting his hand into Alfred's and entwining his fingers between the others. At this, Alfred opens his eyes, looking to Yao questioningly. Their eyes lock onto one another, igniting an intense, urgent flame.

They don't need words to convey what needs to be done.

* * *

 _ **"**_ _ **6"  
**_

* * *

He falls over, landing on top and clambering over to straddle his waist, immediately taking possession over the younger nation's lips. The other responds positively, making a beautiful sound in his throat as he traces his hands down Yao's saturated torso, claiming his hips with shaky hands. It's sloppy, desperate; demanding. Yao's lips taking full advantage of the other's, drinking in the affection he'd gone so long without. Yao feels wild, depraved.

He needs _more_.

Despite feeling as lethargic as he does, the lust for the American beneath him drives him to continue. His fingertips blissfully ghost down the sides of Alfred's face, trailing down his neck. Alfred shivers under Yao's touch, withdrawing from the kiss to steady himself for a moment. It is then that Yao becomes intrigued by the thought that Alfred, who normally teases and implies vulgarity on a daily basis, might actually be a timid mess when cared for, or exposed to sexual intimacy.

With his other hand, he mimics Alfred's demeanor from a few days ago, holding the younger man's mouth open with an insistent hand. Yao captures the other's lower lip between his teeth, teasing him with gentle nibbling at first, followed by curling his tongue around Alfred's. Yao groans, finding that his own gestures leave him wanting so much more. He sinks his teeth into Alfred's tongue, earning a protestant whine.

Yao's bleached lips curve in satisfactory, lapping his tongue over Alfred's lips as a brusque apology, but reapplying his teeth to his lower lip, stiffly. He works his fingers around the other's neck, firm enough to establish dominance. Alfred growls under the pressure, but harbors no intention to fight back. He's surprised to realize that the idea of Yao taking charge is... actually pretty intriguing.

"Leg." Yao orders feebly, stealing another swift smooch. "Get your leg up, Alfred."

He waits, and Alfred complies, slipping one leg around Yao's waist, encouraging their bodies to become closer. The contact alone from Yao's drenched body drives Alfred to a new extreme. Alabaster fingers work into a fragile grip under Alfred's thigh to make sure it remains in place. And with a carnivorous greed Yao begins rocking his hips against Alfred's; deliberately slow and measured, knowing that the build up will only drive the other to the brink of insanity.

Their lips meet again, heated and passionate. Alfred's hands slip onto Yao's lower back to assist the friction between them. Yao's continued grinning only makes the build-up more unbearable. Alfred can only just barely vocalize the word ' _fuck_ ' into Yao's mouth, to which the shorter man responds with a haughty "Be patient."

Their movements are exhausting. But the ecstasy of the moment feeds them the strength to carry on. Thunder crackles again outside, and this time, Alfred is the one to be startled. Yao takes the moment of shock as a queue to hasten his own movements. His hips work swiftly, and he sinks her teeth into Alfred's neck, determined to eclipse his opponent with frenzied passion.

Alfred's breathing is ragged, begging. Yao's hands work themselves slowly over Alfred's chest, fingers adapting skillfully to the curvature of each breast. He wants to take every opportunity to tease the other.

Alfred quivers at the contact, arching his back ever so slightly in titillation. Yao makes a noise of satisfaction, enjoying the control he has over Alfred. He caresses and manipulates them with nimble fingers, Alfred's nipples stiffen under the stimulation, and he cracks a deprived groan, clearly wanting to continue.

Yao's body is deliciously soaked, and all his for the taking. With cautious hands, Alfred slips his fingertips along the definition of his flat breasts, perfect and firm. Yao shivers, enjoying the contact. He hasn't been a virgin since he'd been with Ivan centuries ago, but this time it doesn't feel quite the same. He feels more love and passion that Ivan ever had for him, and he's enjoying every second of Alfred's pleasure more than he ever had in his life. He just wants to claim Alfred in passion, and that's all.

He leans downward, giving Alfred a gentle, desirous kiss, and working his own hands beneath the hem of the other's shirt. The act of undressing another, in Yao's mind, is quite intimate. And with weak, quivering hands he manages to slip Alfred's first article of clothing off. His hands return to Alfred's breasts, rolling each nipple between his fingers rigidly, occasionally flicking them to make sure the taller man's attention is held.

Witless moaning escapes his throat, encouraging Yao to dig his fingernails into soft flesh, dragging them down Alfred's body, eventually coming to grip his dick. He massages it delicately, his eyes fixated on the door for an ejaculation.

Their kiss tailgates this with a burning mess of tongues, writhing over one another. It takes every ounce of will power for Alfred not to ravage Yao's body.

Alfred rasps something incoherent. Yao can only guess that Alfred is growing frustrated - impatient. And to further this torture, his spindly fingers massage Alfred's thighs, keeping the orher palm on his erect penis. Alfred's impatience escapes in a small gasp as he is reduced to breathless shambles.

Yao observes the nation beneath him, considerably between his legs. He doesn't need to look down to know how much cum is leaking theough the cracks of his fingers.

He kneels down, placing sultry kisses along Alfred's neck while his fingers continue their venture over his thighs. Alfred's hips roll ever so slightly, in silent plea for the hands to wander. To this request, Yao complies, allowing his hands to smooth upward, claiming Alfred's hips delicately.

"Stop fuckin' around, dude!" He foils, biting his own lip.

To this Yao only smiles. "I haven't even started yet." He whispers, just barely grazing her thumb over the top Alfred's exposed dick. The younger man is immediately more subdued than before, letting out a startled whimper.

" _Good_." Yao moans, strumming his fingertips over Alfred's slick balls. He's positively saturated with arousal. Alfred's hips levitate, trying to earn more. Yao decides to take pity on the mess beneath him, and slicks his fingers hard against Alfred's penis. Alfred quivers nervously.

He's careful at first, kneading around Alfred's opening; exploring and savoring the dripping chaos. Watching Alfred's face is his favorite part of this. He's practically unraveling already.

" _You're beautiful_." Yao whispers, gradually slipping the tip of his middle finger into Alfred. At this, the young nation comes undone, releasing a paltry squeal. Yao pauses for a moment, looking down at the other in surprise.

" _Aiyah_...Alfred, I didn't know you could make such sounds." He taunts, Alfred grunts as his face flares with blush. "Urgh...shut up and fuck me already." He begs, biting his finger in chagrin.

Yao grins, acquiescing to the command by thrusting into Alfred. He moans pleasurably, rocking his hips against Yao's hand. Yao decides to allow this, and adjusts his hand, allowing it to linger while Alfred plays against him, delighted to see him finally enjoying himself. But one thing bothers him, and that is Alfred's eyes being closed. He removes his hand deftly, wiping the slick against Alfred's thigh. The other protests, looking to the elder with irritated confusion.

"Look at me when I'm fucking you." Yao murmurs. Alfred swallows dryly, strangely enticed at Yao's obscene demand. He nods feebly, establishing desperate eye contact, and Yao re-introduces his fingertips to the heated figure, this time allowing two fingers into his beau.

Alfred lets out a cry that descends into a lusting moan. His hips rise, and Yao accommodates this, slowly pushing in and out of him. Alfred struggles to keep himself in one piece, looking into Yao's eyes with sexual anguish.

"That's a good boy." Yao trills, feeling Alfred ejaculate around his fingers, and he curls them, exploring the slippery walls with curious abandon.

Then he hits something, something that causes Alfred to moan breathlessly and claw at the soaked mattress beneath him. Yao swears he can hear his own name just on the tip of Alfred's tongue, driving him to repeat to the area he touched. He builds upon this, swiveling his wrist and building his movements into steady pumps.

He allows Alfred to shut his eyes, wanting him to focus purely on the pleasure between his legs. The younger man's ragged breathing becomes a metronome to Yao. His fingers matching the rhythm precisely. Alfred's hips join in, swaying in compliance with gratification.

Yao's movements hasten as a third finger slips in, not unnoticed by the recipient. Alfred rasps, arching his back in reply to the pleasure. Alfred's sex is a dripping hot wreck and Yao savors it, knowing that it's all his doing.

Suddenly, Yao takes up one of Alfred's legs, forcing it upwards and allowing it to rest against his shoulder. Alfred gasps, and Yao thrusts harder into him, starting to pump in and out of him recklessly.

The pressure begins building in Alfred, tell-tale by the sudden difficulty he has in keeping up with his breathing. Yao decidedly enjoys this, and leans forwards to kiss the bundle of tension beneath him.

He latches onto Alfred's lips, wanting to make it more difficult for the man to keep up with him. The kiss is hapless and messy, and Yao is sure to fill the other's mouth with his tongue, asserting his authority by coiling around Alfred's. Elegantly, while thrusting into his comrade, he leaves Alfred's leg draping over his shoulder, and turns his free hand to Alfred's balls, quavering his fingertips erratically over the nerves. Alfred moans raggedly into Yao's mouth, becoming debilitated at all the intimacy his body is absorbing.

He orgasms.

" _Say my name_." Yao instructs, lips hovering over the other's. Alfred chokes for a moment, finding the concept of speech to be an impossible request. Yao urges him once more, beating his fingers into Alfred quicker.

Just barely audible, Alfred stifles Yao's name, over and over, voice frayed with a building pressure.

" ** _Louder_**." He demands, biting Alfred's lip crudely.

" _ **Yaaaaoo...**_ " He strangles, Yao's fingers crook densely inside him, and his other hand manipulates pointed fingertips over his penis rapidly, strumming his sex like a fine-tuned piano. And within moments, Alfred's body convulses with the savage orgasm coursing through him. His back stiffens in a tight arch and he repeats Yao's name, rowdy and desperate. Yao feels Alfred's walls constrict around him, and he rides the orgasm out, waiting patiently for Alfred to finish.

When his body slackens beneath Yao, there is a moment of reticence, filled only with their heavy panting. Yao gently lowers Alfred's leg from his shoulder, staring down at him with softened reprieve. Alfred sighs, contentedly, and jackets his arms around the shorter.

* * *

 _ **"**_ _ **6"  
**_

* * *

Yao relaxes on top of Alfred, resting his head on his soft chest, idly tracing invisible patterns in his skin. The passionate energy is transforming into that of cuddly satisfaction. Alfred unconsciously runs his fingers through Yao's untied hair, coming to rest on the spine of his neck. The sounds of thunder rumble the the bleak skies overhead. Yao is just a mess of limbs now, becoming lethargic and sleepy. He closes his eyes, focusing on the soothing sounds of Alfred's soft snoring


	5. Arc 1 - Foreign Gestures

summary: the dat boi meme is dying please let it rest

* * *

The intense, glossy light illuminating from the sun surmounted Yao from slumber. It takes a moment for his vision to habituate, observing his surroundings. He hears the sound of deep snoring, and feels his anatomy slightly rising and lowering.

He suddenly remembers the previous night.

Yao cautiously peers over to the sleeping American beneath him. They're still a bit sodden, and they're still completely nude. This isn't a nuisance, however, and reaches over to press a deep kiss upon his cheek.

Intentionally, he's drawn from unconsciousness, groaning a bit before his eyes slowly spout open. He looks up to the Chinese man grinning down at him.

"Good morning, _千金_." He wipes the drool dripping down the crook of his mouth with this thumb.

Alfred flashes a toothy smile and tugs him downward, pressing his lips against his.

Alfred swallows, gathering his words. "That was... _awesome_." He admits, noticing that somewhere in the middle of their intercourse that his headache mysteriously subsided. Either due to that or the rest. Yao hums observantly.

"Like...it really seemed like you knew what you were doing." Alfred gawks, and Yao immediately picks up on the hint.

"I had never done it before. Being the top center, that is." Yao assures the other quietly, eyes closed. Alfred must be under the impression that Ivan had once been the recipient of such affection, but the truth is that Yao never got that close. He was never given the chance.

"Oh." Is all Alfred can say, but with noticeable relief in his tenor. There is a silent tension between them that goes addressed. Alfred, wondering if Yao still had an _inkling_ of love left for Ivan, and Yao wondering if Alfred has ever had sex. But neither of them find the courage to ask such probing questions, wanting to enjoy the moment as it is. Blissful.

"Nnnggh...what are we gonna tell the guys? Like...about us?" Alfred mumbles, tracing small circles over Yao's spine. Yao moans softly, contemplating the question.

"We should probably wait..." He responds drowsily. "We don't know what we're dealing with, still."

"Uh...well, you can move again. So I think we fixed the problem somehow." Alfred decides, hand travelling down Yao's back to take claim over the elder nation's buttock. Yao sighs, a mixture of indulgence and doubt. He burrows his face into Alfred's bare chest.

"We should still wait. Just in case." He affirms quietly, his voice muffled by the flesh bundled onto him.

"Yeah, right..." Alfred says with drained laughter. "You just don't wanna get up."

"That is true." Yao concedes, grinning. He lifts his head up to give Alfred another indolent, but loving kiss, "...I have felt so pathetic this whole time. You should have kept me at the hospital, I have been nothing but a nuisance."

"Nuisance?" Alfred snorts and sheathed his arms around the other securely, "Babe, I've got to see ya 24 hours a day for the past two weeks! It's actually been kinda...fun. 'Specially last night..." He completes the last sentence with a pink tinge appearing across his face.

"That was a gift of my gratitude, 宝贝." Yao brushes his lips upon his cheek, only making the pink coat on his flesh deepen into rouge.

"Didn't do it for thanks, but it was totally worth it."

Then, a familiar sound. The sound of the front door being opened the living room.

"Oh, shit, Yao, get up, I think the guys are here! Get your clothes on!" He groans, pushing the debilitated pile of limbs away. He's weak, very much so. Yao is significantly weaker, however, and only gives a noncommittal grunt in response while Alfred shoves his own clothes on haphazardly, shoes going on the wrong feet. His hair is remarkably more knotted and messy than usual, and there's several hickies covering his stout, tan neck, unbeknownst to himself.

Yao huddles into himself in response to being cut off from Alfred's body heat.

Alfred panics internally, if Francis and Arthur see Yao naked and huddled on the floor like that they might get the wrong idea. "Dammit, Yao! Get your shit together!" He squeaks, gathering Yao's clothing and pulling Yao out of his curled position. His head throbs with a returning headache, feeling nauseous.

He just barely manages to get the shirt on when Yao finally rouses from his stupor, eyes heavy with narcosis. "Wh...whats going on?" He mumbles, massaging his temples delicately. The inside of his mouth tastes like metal, or lead, and its extremely unpleasant.

" _Alfred! Yao! Where's Yao_?" Calls Arthur from a good distance. " _Is everything alright_?" He must be aware that the two of them are...'indecent'.

Yao snaps to attention, languidly snatching his white, silk pants from Alfred and sliding them on. They're still somewhat damp, and this sends chills of uneasiness up his spine.

"We're coming!" Alfred yells, trying to smooth out his frazzled hair. Yao looks down at himself, noting that he still has a bit of blemished blood on the pants, he's too drained to give a damn.

"Can you get up?" Alfred whispers, looking down to the weakened Yao.

"I...I think so." He replies, unsure. With weak constitution he brings himself up on wobbly legs, with the help of Alfred. "This doesn't feel right..." He trembles with a soft moan, his hands reclining on his legs, "I'm so weak."

"Yeah, same. So I guess that only _kinda_ fixed things." Alfred sighs, disappointed. Leading Yao out of the room is slow, and challenging. "Dude, I dunno 'bout Francis but Arthur's gonna' be so mad."

There's silence. Yao and Alfred stand before Francis and Arthur, who have arrived to check up on the two. Arthur stands confused, examining Yao's weakened state. However, Francis releases a wolf-whistle, observing a shirtless Yao. Arthur makes a speculative hum, taking note of Alfred's especially ravaged appearance.

"What happened here?" Arthur asks.

Alfred looks to Yao, hoisting him up to keep him steady.

"Uh...wellllllll..." Alfred hesitates. "I might have...helped...Yao. But hey, look he can stand now!" He affirms with a nervous laugh, letting go of Yao and gesturing towards him like some sort of exciting product. He wobbles a bit before managing to stand up straight...ish.

They both look to the two for some sort of reaction one way or another.

Arthur can somehow tell what happened, and only makes a sound indicating adversity. "But now you are both sick. And the problem is twice as big. That was a poor decision, you were just supposed to care for him..." He frowns, looking to Yao as he can barely stand on his own. "However, I suppose since Yao is able to move again, it might make things a bit easier.."

"Sick...?" Yao pitches and looks up to Arthur, "...how am I _sick_? I thought he just...beat me." Tears form in his eyes looking back at the event alone.

"You're going to be alright for right now, both of you should be." Arthur assures the two, "Since we're not entirely normal humans, some things you may be able to avoid. However, when he attacked you, he managed to...poison you? Curse you? No one will probably know what exactly he did, we can't even trace his whereabouts."

Yao makes a discomforted groan, his throat feels sore. "...I have traditional Chinese medicine. Can't I simply use that?"

"I don't think they'd have much of an effect. But I have several ideas, some of them are more risky than others."

"What's the risky option?" Alfred pitches, rubbing one of his eyes sleepily.

"I could individually preform black magic upon each of you, far away from one another, in a secluded location to release the intoxications, they may possibly radiate. Since you have - how do I word this... entered each other...the illness within Yao has been halved, and the explosion resulting in preforming black magic neither of you might be less devastating, but I can't know for sure..."

"And the other option?" Yao asks, feeling as if his legs are going to give out beneath him. He leans on Alfred for support, who obliges by steadying himself and keeping an arm wrapped around the elder's waist.

"Iodine. There are places called 'Brine Lakes' around the world that have massive quantities of natural iodine. It's been used in the past on humans to counteract the effects of radiation exposure. However, I'm not sure how well it will work on immortals, non? We'll need more time to investigate." Francis explains with hands on his hips.

"In the mean time, now you both may need to recluse yourselves." Arthur fesses.

"So all we need to do is go swimming in some weird lake or whatever? That seems way better than doin' Witchcraft on us. Sign me up." Alfred replies.

"How long would we have to be...submerged...in this 'lake'?" Yao questions. "Iodine, in it's pure form is mostly found at the bottom of lakes. If we were going to find one we'd have to essentially dive deeper than the standard sea bed."

"Geek." Alfred adds. Yao just offers him a provoked side glance with a small growl.

"It depends." Is Arthur's answer. Yao frowns.

"Do we _really_ gotta stay here?" Alfred interjects. "This place is gettin' boring."

Internally Yao takes offense, wondering if their sexcapade earlier was 'boring' to him. He sours at the statement, looking away and focusing on the carpet floor. He feels sensitive all of the sudden.

"I suppose I can't force you two to stay here, but it would be much safer. Radiation destroys everything around it. This place is lifeless already. It's the perfect environment to keep hazardous materials."

"Hey my house ain't ' _lifeless_ ', you grandpa!" Alfred relents,"Urghh...just do the witchcraft on us. How bad can it be?"

"I have no way of determining that. And as I have said before, the resulting explosion might devastate your bodies."

"We'll just stay here. You go ahead and find out whatever you can." Yao relents with a sigh.

Alfred groans louder. "Can you guys at least buy us some comics or something?"

Francis cracks a smirk. "Maybe... but something tells me you won't be needing them."

"What is THAT supposed to mean?" Alfred asks, squinting up at the French man.

"Nothing. We're going to be taking our leave. We'll be back later. Try to stay out of trouble." Arthur chides, the couple turning to leave. Yao wonders for a moment if Arthur and Francis know exactly what's going on between him and Alfred. It's highly likely. There are few things in this vast universe that remain secret from those two eavesdroppers, after all. When their conversation comes to an end, and the two visitors have left via door, the two remaining nations share a moment of melancholy.

Are they going to talk about the sex now? About their relationship? Anything?

Alfred cackles roughly, looking up at Yao in amusement.

"...What is it?" Yao asks with a distraught frown.

"You just...look so different." He grins, giving Yao a slow look-over. Disheveled hair, clothes haphazardly thrown on and sloppy. Shirtless. Barefoot and standing in the softened carpet. He looks gaunt, and ravaged. "Kinda hot." Alfred adds candidly. Yao blushes under such observations.

"I need another bath." He replies, running thin fingers through his hair. "A hot one."

"No way, I say you stay like this." Alfred attests, kneeling down to correct his shoes being on the wrong feet. Yao props himself against a shelf nearby. The rain has diminished into a faltering mist, and the sun struggles to shine through the window behind the thin cloud layer above. He has never felt so fragile. His body is almost as dysfunctional as a dying humans at this point. Is this what it's like when a human feels 'sick', or catches a cold? The radiation is like an inhibitor on his flesh, he is much more sensitive to pain and weakness. It's awful.

Yao's attention returns to the younger nation when he senses hands take hold of his hips. He looks up to Alfred, carrying a soft curiosity.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, babe?"

A small sigh escapes his lips, feeling the pull of gravity much stronger now. "I just...hate feeling this way. I feel so drained. I feel useless." He huffs, looking to the wooden door. "I dislike waiting around and doing nothing."

Alfred seems at a loss for any helpful insight, and the struggle shows on his face. "Well, uh...y'know...maybe we don't have to wait around here. There's gotta be other places on earth where people don't go."

"Like Sealand?" Yao offers with sharp sarcasm.

"No like..uh...what was that weird place you n' Feliciano were blabbin' about with all the funny drawings on the walls? That place was wrecked by a volcano or something, right?"

Yao raises a brow. "Pompeii?" He confirms. "Well...I suppose no one lives there now. And I would like to see it for myself..." His voice trails off, challenging the idea with logic. "But Arthur said we should remain here unti-"

"Until what? We get so bored that we decide to do witchcraft on ourselves? What harm could it do to just pop in and take a look around?" He argues, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "And if we stay here much longer I swear I'm gonna hibernate."

"Alfred, it really hasn't been that long. It's only been...two weeks..." Yao drones, sniffling slightly from a runny nose. Yao rubs the side of his head. "And humans don't hibernate. Not to mention that it's spring, now. Hibernation occurs in-"

"Damn, chief, you sure do like to run that pretty li'l mouth'a yours. I bet I could shut it up real quick." Adds Alfred, giving Yao a fatigued but somehow promising smirk.

Yao's cheeks flare with a blush at the nickname, making a few incoherent fumbles.

"Let's get outta here." Alfred decides, offering a hand to the other.

"Are you...I mean...aren't we going to...talk about...?" Yao stammers, eyes fixated on the extended hand.

"About what?"

"No, nevermind. It's nothing." He concludes, taking Alfred's hand. Maybe they don't have to talk about the sex. But he'd rather not leave it swept under the rug. After all, his promise before going to sleep the previous night was that they would talk about it when they woke up. He wonders if having sex with Alfred only made things more difficult. Things aren't as simple as he'd like them to be. Alfred could at least tell Yao how it was...

"You're so weird." Mumbles the younger nation before they slowly work their way to Alfred's room. They have to pack, afterall. Knowing Yao's state, Alfred offers for him to sit down while he took the liberty of packing for him, but Yao refuses.

When finished and calling up Feliciano to let him know what's up, Yao is practically out of breath by the time they reach the door, and has to stop for a moment to regain himself. Being this weak is embarrassing, if not degrading.

"Do you know where you're going?" Yao exhales, leaning against Alfred for support.

"Uh, kinda? What? It's in Italy or something right? What was that place he said it was called? Nipples?"

"NAPLES. It is called Naples, Alfred. You have to have SOME idea of which one you're going to." He nags, finding Alfred's impulsive behavior to be tiring.

"I got this, would you just chill out?" Alfred quips, jerking Yao away from the wall and carrying him bridal-style out the door. Yao gasps at the gesture, clinging desperately onto Alfred's shirt. As if he could be dropped at any moment. 

* * *

"You know, I'm not as dumb as you give me credit for." Alfred says. They've arrived outside of the airline of Naples. "What do you think I did in the two weeks you were out cold?"

"I don't follow." Yao says frankly, looking around at their unfamiliar surroundings, relaxing into Alfred's hold in one arm, as he totes the luggage in the other. The only thing Yao is responsible to hold is his beloved panda. It's midnight, or around that time, and even though they mostly rested on the plane, things were overwhelming. Stars litter the sky generously. It's quiet, and slightly warmer as opposed to the cool rain in America.

Alfred rolls his eyes. "I was bored so I researched for that place you were reading about."

Touched at the idea, Yao's face blushes again.

"I just don't get why you haven't already been here. I mean, you've been alive for like four-thousand years, I thought you would'a been everywhere by this point." He assumes, walking in a direction that supposedly leads to their destination.

Yao contemplates for a moment, wondering himseld why he's never explored the world as much as he would have liked to. "I suppose I was just too - focused on other things." And by other things he's implying Ivan, of course, but he wouldn't dare admit this to Alfred. Not right now. Not now when things are so tender between them.

He rests his head on the broader man's shoulder, focusing on the warmth and composure of his body. How wonderful is it to be able to touch Alfred again. Even if it is the slightest of expressions or subtle touches. Gratefulness washes over him. You never know what you really have until its taken away from you.

"You don't have to carry me, you know." Yao speaks silently, tracing his index finger along the rim of Alfred's slightly exposed chest. "You must be as exhausted as I am." Alfred tokens his usual shrug and a vague murmur.

The walking goes on for quite some time, through barren farmlands and small forests. A few farm houses garner Yao's attention, and he wonders if maybe this is too dangerous. Humans seem to have encroached on the area surrounding the ruins of what was once a great city. He wonders how far away they should be from others to prevent contamination. This is dangerous ground they're treading on. He would hate to accidentally cause the death of Feliciano and Lovino's people.

The atmosphere around them is quiet. Yao's thoughts occupied with that of intrigue. Alfred has been showing a side to himself that Yao has only ever seen in small spurts, conservatively spaced apart in occurrence. He's being affectionate, caring, honest...and thoughtful. Something that Ivan never gave him. He contemplates if Alfred represses this behavior and only acts out because he's frustrated that he has no outlet for romance. But to say that would mean Alfred's character in its entirety is just a falsehood; a facade. Yao decidedly depicts Alfred's wild personality as him being himself. A nation can be caring and considerate while also being a wreck. Not everyone is a consistent personality type, right?

You wouldn't know it at first, but the ruins of ancient Pompeii come into view just as they cut through a small thicket of trees. Across a modern road, they enter into the time piece. Great, crumbling ornate pillars caress the cobblestone roads, and remnants of buildings create enclosure around them. Alfred allows Yao to walk solo, cautiously letting him down.

Yao can't help but be taken by the locale. Like observing the remains of what was once a great and powerful being. Earth's history is fascinating, diverse and cultured. Earth has hundreds, thousands of cultures being contained in such a small globe. Rome was always one of his favorites, even though they weren't exactly allies. However, he's always been so enveloped with the concept of romance, courtship, honor, and power.

Mindful of his own strength, Yao works over to the first building on his right, running his fingertips over the jagged brickwork that was once buried beneath tons of volcanic ash. If only he would have come here before such devastation. Seen how the city came to life. Witness the culture for herself. It puts into perspective the brevity of human mortality. How relentless time can be, as well as nature.

Alfred closely follows, watching Yao closely as she gets lost in the ancient ruins. Feliciano's description sincerly didn't do it justice. It's far more magnificent than what was displayed within a summary. Yao enters the next building, observing what was most likely a former kitchen, or a bakery.

The moon is bright overhead, casting shadows throughout the foundations. Yao uses a dull glow from his cellular device to see the immaculate designs etched into the walls. He contemplates how mankind has a way with implementing art into everything they did, at least a long time ago they did.

Alfred is infatuated, mostly with Yao. Finding her curious nature to be captivaring. He finds it adorable how Yao reacts to foreign things; he gets this fervent look on his face, absorbing knowledge with a quiet excitement. Alfred smiles, trying to seem aloof.

"You gonna fuck the walls or what?" He jokes, leaning in the door way. Yao doesn't respond at first, observing the arches overhead.

"You know..." Yao begins softly, ignoring Alfred's raw humor. "Despite humans being among the most repulsive life forms, we certainly have a way with colonization and landscaping."

"Yeah, yeah. Where are the funny drawings for?" Alfred charges, looking around at the plain walls that look as if they're about to crumble at any moment.

"Those 'funny' drawings, are explicit, erotic depictions of human reproduction. You will only find them on the walls of..." He pauses, a bit hesitant at the term. "...Whorehouses and brothels."

"Okay well where are those at?"

"How should I know? I'm not going to actively search for...those kind of things." He shutters, running his fingers over a dusted counter top.

Alfred hums pitilessly, wandering outside the building on his own. Yao is slow to follow, taking in his surroundings with fascination. When he steps back outside onto the cobblestone, she sees Alfred a few meters away, peering down at something, clearly amused. Yao is reluctant to investigate, but walks over to join him anyways.

"What is it, Alfred?" He asks plainly. Then her eyes follow Alfred's gaze to a conformation carved into the ground. It's a phallus-shaped engraving. Yao rolls his eyes in distaste and scoffs. "Honestly..." And he walks off, looking around at the other buildings lining the street. Alfred snickers, and follows.

"Really tho', why're there dicks everywhere?" He asks, noting the small phallus etchings on a building they pass. Yao sighs, not necessarily wanting to discuss it, but can't resist the opportunity to show off his knowledge of the subject.

"In ancient Rome, the herald of...male sexual organs, was a symbol of power, wealth, and good luck. It also meant to promote fertility, and ward off thieves. As to why they chose such an image to represent these things is beyond me. If you ask me, it's completely redundant." He explains, folding his arms under a sudden cold breeze.

"It's hilarious." Alfred decides in contrast. Yao smiles, ducking into another building. There are dry basins with ornate trimming lining a great hall, indicating that this was at one time, a bathing forum.

"These are community baths." Yao begins, unprompted. Alfred chuckles, finding it cute when Yao decides to showcase his comprehension over even the smallest of things. "Much like how in modern human society, there are public laundromats, coffee shops and other businesses, community baths were for the public to gather, converse, hold business meetings, and cleanse themselves. One hall was used for women, and the other for men. Private baths in-home was something of a luxury, so 90% of Roman citizens bathed together."

"Why did we stop doing that? Sounds fun." Alfred comments, thinking of modern man, and again how funny it would be if they all congregated in the nude.

"Over the course of mankind's history, leading a private life became much more viable. Therefore, with the advancement of plumbing systems and technology, everyone came to eventually own their own washrooms. I think that along with these advancements, man just became much more self-conscious and reserved with the concept of nudity." He concludes, rubbing his forearms to try to get warm. When did it get so cold? Yao fixates his attention to the walls, covered in faded frescoes depicting Romans bathing and conversing.

Suddenly, he is infatuated with the idea of bathing with the younger male accompanying him again. The passionate imagery flashing through his mind of the two of them submerged in hot water, viscid steam rising from the surface, gently cleansing one another with warm cloths. It reminds him of when he'd cleanse his younger siblings back in the day. Perhaps, now that the scenario is romantic, leading into passionate kisses and gentle touches. If only the bath was functioning well enough for such events.

"Yo, dude. Whatcha' doin'?" Alfred's voice grabs, pulling Yao away from his fantasy.

Yao stands at the edge of an empty bath, staring down into it. He must have spaced out. "Oh, I apologize. I got...distracted."

"Do you wanna sit down for a bit?" He asks, genuinely concerned. Yao shakes his head in refusal.

"No, I...I'm alright. I'm just cold." He admits as they exit the baths. For the most part, the rest of the street is lined with unremarkable, dilapidated buildings that must have been homes or bakeries. Vines are beginning to lay claim to the ancient dwellings. He wonders if Vesuvius hadn't destroyed this city, if there would still be people living here.

They come to a crossroad, a large building sitting midst the corner. Yao recognizes this building from the book, and hastens to move past it before Alfred can express intrigue. But Yao isn't sleek, and Alfred soon picks up on this.

"What's in there?" He asks with a mocking innocence.

"Nothing...important. I'd rather go see the Macellum. It should be a few blocks down from here..."

"Oh okay." Alfred says, but just as quickly darts into the building in question. Yao groans, pulling his hair lightly in frustration.

"Alfred get back here. I'm not going in-" He pauses as the American disappears from his view. He waits outside, looking up at the large structure with a certain embarrassment.

This is the Lupanare- the only building in the city built solely for the purpose of selling sex. He'd rather not have to look at the vulgar paintings lining the walls inside, but he also doesn't want to be separated from Alfred. And so, Yao treads cautiously in slow pursuit of the other.

"How can you have so much energy?" Yao calls out, exhausted as he enters the small foyer. There is a faint echo, but no response. Where did he go?

There is no subtlety whatsoever, the walls are absolutely jacketed in lewd depictions of sex. From heterosexual intercourse to threesomes. Nothing is sacred and nothing is in anyway censored. He keeps his vision to the floor for the most part, clutching onto his panda and taking time to peer into each of the tiny rooms to either side of the foyer. Each room is plain, having only a roughly-carved stone bed inside. Back in the day, these would likely have been covered with plush pillows and blankets, with nothing but torchlight to illuminate the...business transactions.

"Alfred, where did you go?" He demands hoarsely. Again, no response. He groans, rubbing his arms in attempt to create at least some warmth. His gaze fixes to a narrow set of stairs leading upwards. To his knowledge, the upstairs of the Lupanare was for more...expensive prostitutes. With more luxurious furniture and even more lewd imagery. Yao stands at the base of the stairs, wondering if Alfred is just being playful and wants to jump out and give him a good scare at any moment.

"I'm coming up the stairs Alfred, don't even think of pulling off anything!" He warns, slowly maneuvering the cramped passageway. This would be where the wealthy clients would travel to receive their high-priced pleasures. Taking in exquisite wine and delighting themselves on the flesh of lustful, young prostitutes in solo sex or massive orgies.

The idea of Yao traveling said stairs to meet Alfred for such reasons is an intriguing thought. Were the place warmer and furnished properly, he _MIGHT_ entertain the idea of making sweet love here. But there's no way he'd succumb to such desires on a hard, cold surface such as the carved beds he had witnessed downstairs.

Reaching the top, the room is more spacious, and there are no stone beds. Meaning there must have, at some point, been wood furnishings. Faded images of orgies and sexual exchanges invade Yao's vision.

"Urgh...Alfred are you up here?" He meanders into the next room, where there are a handful of wooden beds, probably placed here by tour guides for presentation purposes. They have thin mattresses on top for show, but no pillows, assumingly stolen at some point.

A loud scream floods Yao's ears, and he reacts by jumping, losing his balance and collapsing onto the floor. Alfred's neurotic cackling soon follows.

Yao looks up to his man-child of a boyfriend, soured by the immature scare tactic.

"Alfred F. Jones!" He reprimands, slowly getting himself up; which turns out to be more a struggle than he'd imagine. "What is your problem?!"

"Chill, dude! Take a breather. I was just havin' some fun." He dismisses with a wave, smile fading and being replaced with worry. "I'm sorry."

Yao softens, slowly. "It's..fine, Alfred. I know you are just playing." He regains himself, looking around the room. It's very plain, but he caves in and decides to observe the explicit artwork on the walls, since Alfred lured him all the way up here.

First painting is of a female, squatting awkwardly over a male and...riding him. The proportions and anatomy in the painting make it uncomfortable to look at, so he switches her gaze to another. A woman is on her knees, being...spent from behind by darker-skinned male. Yao scoffs, noticing how a majority of these paintings are of a heterosexual nature.

The third one she looks at is of another woman, again, on her hands and knees with a man behind her, but there is a third man behind the first one, doing him from behind. He shutters slightly at the display, but finds a strange machination in knowing that homosexuality wasn't as taboo as it was in other cultures.

Yao's eyes flicker to the next, showing what looks like a female giving oral to another. His face flushes, wondering if Alfred is looking at the same one. He shivers, thinking what it'd be like to experience it for himself, but is also slightly repulsed at the idea of his mouth going anywhere near such an intimate place. It can't possibly taste good.

Yao keeps strolling, coming to halt at one of the beds and observing the paintings on the wall next to it; only he's not really focused on it, more occupied with Alfred's unusual silence beside him. Yao glances to him, suspicious that he hasn't made any risque jokes yet. He is met with Alfred's own gaze, which feels...electrifying. Yao heats up immediately, wondering if Alfred has been indulging in the same erotic thoughts.

Moonlight floods in from a near by orifice that used to be a window.

"I can't take it anymore." Alfred says quietly. The elder is confused at this.

* * *

 _ **6**_

* * *

"I...is something bothering you?" Yao stammers, doing poorly to mask his sudden arousal.

"I've just been itchin' to fuck you." Alfred growls, shoving Yao onto the bed, the mattress isn't soft, at all, and Yao can feel her spine aching as it presses into the wood frame beneath. Yao gasps at the sudden gesture, now eye-level with the American.

"Alfr.." Yao begins, cut off by Alfred's starving lips clattering against his own, hungry and demanding. He is swift to forfeit, biting into Alfred's lip with proportianate greed. He would be lying to himself if he said he wouldn't want Alfred to wreck him, certainly not unlike the frescoes they'd been observing.

Alfred's palms make quick work of removing Yao's silk bottoms, to which Yao responds with a sharp exhale against the other's lips, reaching down to cover his exposed sex. The pants are deposited on the bed and forgotten.

"Don't be shy, hon'." Alfred hums, grasping Yao by the wrists and fastening them to the sad mattress beneath them. His legs spread of their own accord, silently reprimanding himself for such a desperate reflex. Alfred takes advantage of the opening, pressing his hand between the lithe nation's legs and grinding his sex against him, massaging it in a deliberately slow bearing.

Yao's lanky anatomy quivers into a fierce mess at the contact, curling himself and preying onto Alfred's mouth, expending his energy into an equally messy kiss, already desperate. With each drag of Alfred's hips, Yao is nudged further along the path leading to his beautiful ecstasy.

He moans discordantly as Alfred's tongue intrudes his ajar lips, flourishing against his own tongue ravenously. Bucking his hips to get more from the other, Alfred quirks a smile, driving Yao to wrap his legs around the broader in sexual despondence.

Alfred, feeling a new dampness forming against his clothes, breaks the kiss abruptly. "Jeez, dude, you're really soakin'." He fools, halting his movements to slip a hand down between to his penis, swiping his middle finger over the tip of Yao's penis and taking capture of it, making him tremble instantly.

He parts his eyelids to catch Alfred licking the residue from her fingertip, seemingly pleased at the taste. Yao is a mixture of appalled, and aroused at the sight.

Small kisses are planted against Yao's thighs, beginning at his knees and working up towards his scrotum. There's a moment of pause, Alfred's mouth just lingering before his prize. Yao's throat trembles with a scorching moan in anticipation.

And at the moment Alfred's lips make contact with the flesh, Yao reaches down swiftly, pushing Alfred's head away abruptly.

"What the hell, Yao?!" Alfred asks, caught off guard, face flushing a deep rouge.

"Wh...what are you doing?!" He squeals, shrinking away and clamping his legs shut.

"Uhm...well I was gonna go down on you." Alfred explains flatly, not being able to fabricate better wording. Yao makes a disturbed noise.

"G-go...down?" He places the words together in his mind until the click. He means oral. "That's...that's horrible...and..dishonorable!" He argues, denying his own urges to actually try it. "That can't possibly taste...I-"

"Wait, you've never had it before?" Alfred interrupts with a sly smirk. Yao falters at the question. Of course he hasn't. But does that mean Alfred _HAS_ before? He comes to ponder just how experienced Alfred is in sex.

"...You...have?" Yao asks sheepishly, unsure if he genuinely wants to know the answer. What is this knot forming in his stomach?

"Uh, well...I mean, yeah?"

The warmth in Yao's body drains instantaneously. Jealousy? Is this feeling jealousy? He stammers over his words for a moment before asking. "...Wh..with who?" He can't recall Alfred ever being super close with anyone before, not in THAT way. Was it Kiku? Or Mathias? Or even Toris? He feels exposed, and awkward; wanting to put his pants back on and pretend this never happened.

Alfred groans, frustrated that the moment is being ruined with such a trivial question. A nervousness is building inside of him. "It was a long time ago, Yao, it's not a big deal. And it didn't really mean anything, we were just messing around back then."

Alfred, despite existing for a shorter time than Yao by thousands of years, has had more sexual experience than him. Yao is admittedly envious. He is reacquainted with the cold air, rushing in through the window near the bed.

"Who was it?" He asks again, wounded.

"Oh my god, dude, it doesn't matter! Don't make a big deal out of nothing..." Alfred counters, somewhat saddened that Yao is taking the news this way. When Yao doesn't respond, Alfred gives in all too easily. "It was Gil, okay? But we were just fooling around at a party. It meant nothing. You guys were all freaking out during the Opium Wars and no one would talk to me so I started mixing things up."

That obnoxious, tipsy Prussian heathen? That Gilbert? Yao shutters at the stark contrast between Alfred and himself. Uninvited images flash through Yao's mind of all the times he had seen Alfred and Gilbert hanging out back then. He had no idea that they had - such chemistry at any point.

Yao shakily resigns, reaching for his discarded pants. His wrist is apprehended by the younger American.

"Ugh, dude, c'mon, you can't let things that happened a long time ago ruin what's goin' on _right now_! Don't be dumb..." Alfred hassles, trying to get at least a second of eye contact. "You don't see me making a big deal out of your relationship with Ivan, do you?"

" _ **Things never got that way between us**_!" Yao snaps, tears threatening to well up, suddenly reminded of how he was ultimately betrayed by the said Russian. Alfred looks genuinely shocked, glancing away in embarrassment and guilt for assuming things.

"Oh..." Alfred replies poorly. "So you've never, uh...?"

"I've only read about it...and watched a few things... I never thought I'd actually...perform. Which is why I..." He chokes on his words. He feels inadequate somehow. What if Alfred has had better sex with...that other man? What if Yao's attempts at lovemaking earlier was pathetic; amateur, in comparison?

"Oh. Damn." The elevated concedes, letting go of Yao's wrist and letting him retrieve his garments.

There's painful silence as Yao slips them back on, avoiding any sort of eye contact. He sits on the edge of the bed, fixing his gaze down at his boney legs. Alfred lets out a long sigh, planting face into the bed next to Yao, followed by muffled groaning.

* * *

 _ **6**_

* * *

" _I'm sorry_." Alfred confesses quietly.


	6. Arc 1 - Wet & Exposed

summary: two horny men go skinny dipping

* * *

The horizon is lined in a pink tint with the imminent sunrise, and the decomposing remains of Pompeii are blanketed in a frigid fog. In the Lupinare, on a thin display mattress, Yao and Alfred peacefully lie together. Yao being significantly smaller, and a bit gaunt, Alfred has taken it upon himself to be the big spoon, keeping Yao wrapped in a warm embrace. Before they'd drifted off to sleep, Yao's shivering had progressively gotten worse, which encouraged Alfred to offer body heat.

Last night was...sentimental, to say the very least. Despite Alfred's continuous reassurance that he wasn't comparing Yao to Gilbert, Yao continues to feel foolish and inadequate. Yao, no sooner, decided that he'd discuss it later.

... _Much_ later. And eventually, tired from penniless controversy, they fell asleep.

Yao is first to withdraw from slumber. The warmth against his back is comforting and tender, and he finds himself scooting backwards for more, wishing the warmth could just swallow him whole.

The younger stirs a little at the movement; mumbling something sleepily and adjusting his grip on Yao before nuzzling into the back of his neck, snoring lightly. Yao is delighted, to say the least. His eyes wander to the window above the bed, acknowledging the early sunrise.

But then he sees the disgusting murals of sex littering the walls and is reminded of what almost happened last night. How Alfred almost put his mouth in...places. The familiar feeling of jealousy reclaims his stomach.

He doesn't wish to be so petty... Alfred seemed genuine that his escapades with Gilbert had really meant nothing- but it's just the idea that Yao went headlong into showing intimacy to Alfred under the impression that they were at least on...equal standing, in terms of sexual experience. And the idea that Alfred even entertained the thought of Yao and Ivan ever being so close only makes him contemplate if his feelings for Ivan are truly vanished...

Just the thought of Alfred being indecent with someone else ever, is discouraging, if not depressing. And Yao, being the perfectionist he is, heavily depends on feedback and encouragement- but it's not like he can just ask Alfred to rate the sex on a scale of 1-10. Yao would admit that it was a bit...sloppy. Rushed.

Perhaps it would have been best to just wait until all this radiation business was over. But at that moment when he was able to move again, he was just so caught up in the moment that he wanted to express his...greatfulness. He definitely wants to do this again, however, preferably not on a stone bed.

Just then, a bird flutters in through the window, perching on one of the wooden rafters upon the ceiling. Yao's attention is captured by the small creature; mostly because it's the first life form he'd seen in days aside from Alfred, Francis and Arthur. He is overcome with a sadness; wanting to see his panda again. The creature has a way with making all the problems in the world seem...so small. Like how when one stares out into the ocean to feel calm. That's the feeling Panda gives him. He'd give anything for a hug from the bear.

Francis and Arthur.

They should probably get back to Alfred's house...They've probably popped in by this point wondering where they've gone.

But Alfred is so ridiculously warm.

And with how things ended last night he'd really just rather never speak again ever. He's humiliated; he knows he overreacted but he just can't help feeling envious.

It is with great reluctance that he gently pushes away from Alfred's soothing grip and attempts sitting up. Attempt, being the keyword; his body feels worse than it did yesterday. It must be a mix of the illness and this poor excuse for a bed. Alfred is drawn out of sleep at the disturbance.

"Mmm. What's wrong, dude?" He asks groggily, rubbing an eye and wiping the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Yao clicks his jaw a few times. "We should get back to the...your house..." He replies hesitantly, dragging his words. "Your brother and Francis must be concerned."

"Nnnngghh...just a few more minutes." Alfred protests as he reasserts his embrace over the older nation.

Yao chuckles weakly. "A few minutes to you is a few days. Come on."

"Nuh-uh." He puts firmly, stiffening his hold on Yao.

" _Aiyah_ , don't be so difficult." Groans the elder, attempting to wriggle free but failing miserably. He's too feeble to put up any sort of struggle.

Suddenly, a pair of warm lips attack Yao's neck, planting unbearably soft kisses over and over. Yao collapses beneath the sensation - being way too ticklish, and immediately reacts with distraught giggling.

"Aiyah - STOP!" He gasps between uncontrollable laughter. However, despite his desperate requests, Alfred only becomes more persistent, seemingly enjoying the torture. He feels Alfred's lips curve into a sadistic smile.

Apparently in the mood for exploring more of Yao's weaknesses, Alfred's grip slackens, but is replaced by intrusive hands at his ribs, tickling him relentlessly- Yao's laughter becomes more neurotic and loud between that and the assault upon his neck.

Alfred snickers wickedly against Yao's neck, which is somewhat arousing, but unfortunately the carressing of his anatomy makes it impossible to enjoy. Yao's body tenses in reaction to the stimulation, as if trying to harden against the attack.

"St-stop it!" He chokes, trying desperately to get away, only managing to arch his spine away from the other, but unfortunately not out of reach. Tears collect in the Chinese man's eyes, unable to cope with the sensation overload. "P-please!" He tries once more, wondering if politeness could possibly help him out of this madness.

Supposedly this works, and Alfred halts his hands immediately, finishing on Yao's neck with a less ticklish, but firm kiss. He's admittedly relieved, sighing and relaxing finally. A tender kiss is placed over Yao'd cheek, and then on her lips, to which Yao is this time eager to reciprocate.

They kiss lazily, warm lips slipping against each other with a soft passion. Yao's arms drape over Alfred's shoulders, contentedly. Meanwhile, Alfred's hands find better places to wander, slipping down to Yao's waist, seemingly innocent at first. But then Alfred dips his middle finger beneath the hem of Yao's boxers. It lingers there while their kissing continues. Softly, Alfred nibbles Yao's bottom lip, tugging gradually and lapping it over his tongue. It's amazing how little it takes for Yao to get turned on, you'd never expect it for someone who seems so sophisticated and traditional. Despite his reserved semblance, he breathes a feathery moan against Alfred's lips, which to the other is an invitation, apparently.

When Alfred's hand advances beneath Yao's boxers, he groans in protest, reaching down to arrest the other by the wrist.

"Nnhh...what gives?" Alfred growls, slipping his hand out and resting it on Yao's thigh.

"I-I don't think I'm ready." He fabricates a lie, giving Alfred an apologetic kiss. He can't really admit that he's still plagued over the thought of Gilbert and Alfred.

Alfred makes a throaty protest. "That's bullshit, dude. You wanted it _bad_ last night."

"How can you be so sure?" Yao breathes, becoming painfully focused on the pressure building against his thigh. He doesn't have to spare a look to Alfred to know that he's grinning widely.

"Uh, you were hard as fuck." He says bluntly, squeezing Yao's thigh for emphasis on the term 'hard'. Yao's entire face heats up.

"You know, being 'hard', doesn't always coincide with arousal within the male genitalia. It can actually indicate clea -"

"- Ohoho, you were horny. Don't even play."

"Aiyah! That word is so...filthy!" He visibly cringes.

"I can show ya filthy." Alfred retaliates, digging his fingertips into the lithe inner thigh temptingly, his scrotum slightly brushed with the touch of his thumb. Yao bites his lip, becoming unraveled at the slightest gesture.

"I...I'm not ready." He says again, trembling with inner conflict.

Alfred respectfully pulls his hand away. "A'ight." He sighs. "Jus' let me know when you ARE." He flashes another wide grin, rolling off of the bed.

Yao glances down at his legs, missing the warmth, but satisfied to know that Alfred is respectful enough not to keep pushing him.

"Uhhh, Yao?" Alfred hesitates, looking at the floor of the room. "Lets get to the plane back home."

Yao raises a brow, scooting to the edge of the bed to follow Alfred's pitiful gaze.

There are several deceased birds scattered about the floor. A horrible feeling of guilt churns in Yao's stomach. Is this because of the radiation they brought with them? He brings a hand up to his mouth in shock, looking to Alfred for any semblance of comfort, but is just met with the mirror image of culpability.

They leave the building without another word.

The ruins of Pompeii seem much different in the morning light; Pearl wishes they could stay and investigate a bit more; but seeing as the negative effect they've had on the small group of wildlife already, remaining here wouldn't be enjoyable, if not safe.

As they walk in silence through cobblestone alleyways, the alabaster man runs his fingers along the walls of broken buildings, getting lost in his own thoughts. Alfred is consequentially silent, but within a few minutes reaches for Yao's vacant hand, holding it gently and offering silky caresses. The elder is taken by the tiny gesture, blushing softly.

The younger American hesitates to speak. Something needs to be said. He wants Yao to know that whatever happened in the past isn't going to affect whatever - relationship they have right now. Unfortunately, Alfred is not a man of many comforting words, and even worse when it comes to verbally expressing his feelings.

"So, uhm, Yao..." He starts silently. Yao's grip on the other's hand tightens a bit, as if already anticipating the sensitive discussion.

"Yes?"

Alfred gathers himself, eyes fixed to the ground as they travel. "Does it really bother you that I've been with someone else?"

A pitiful sigh escapes Yao. He mulls over a response, finding the question to be fair, all things considered. "No. I mean...yes? I'm not sure. I do not necessarily...mind it. It's over and done with. But I suppose...if anything, it does makes me wonder if I'll ever be...'on-par' with him?" He inquires indirectly. "It seems so petty, no matter how I word it. I know I am just making a fool of myself, fretting over something as small as...sexual performance...how would I know if I'm doing anything...right?"

They turn a corner, entering one of the main roadways towards the abandoned city's outlets. Alfred contemplates a response.

"What you mean like...you're worried that the sex I had with Gil was better?"

"...In a sense." Yao replies flatly with a twinge of embarrassment.

"I only did it once, bro. I hardly even remember it. I don't even think I came, honestly. We were both totally drunk." He admits with an awkward laugh. This is somehow reassuring and comforting to Yao.

"So um...may I ask how my - performance, was?" He ponders out loud, coming to a halt in the middle of the road. Yao's eyes fixate onto Alfred's, anticipating the feedback.

"Ah, jeez, babe." Alfred grumbles. "Do you have any idea how weird that sounds? It's not like...a test or anything."

"But was it...I mean, did you enjoy what I had to offer?" Yao tries again, desperate for some sort of confirmation.

Alfred laments with a dramatic exhale. "Of course I did! I came, didn't I?"

"What if you faked it?" Yao retorts quickly.

"Oh my god! Do you have any idea how paranoid you're being?!" He snorts.

"Please tell me how I did. I need to know." The Chinese man contends plaintively. "Just say...on a scale of one to ten, how would you ra -"

"Yao." Alfred testifies restlessly. They share an awkward moment of fruitless silence. The man-child yields with a sigh. "It was...good. Like - REALLY fuckin' good." He genuinely admits with a blush, smacking himself in the forehead in humiliation. "Like...I'm honestly surprised that it was your first time 'cuz holy shit...bro, those skills you got with those fingers...like god damn..."

Yao falls silent, overcome with a mixture of pride, and amazement. "...Really?"

Alfred can't help but melt at the sight of the overjoyed nation, knowing that most of Yao's life has been spent experiencing betrayal and abandonment. The happiness is infectious, and they are soon both sharing a smile at each other with profound blushing.

"Yeah, really. Really. So stop worrying about it, will ya'?"

The elder acquiesces, resuming their walk without further questioning.

"...also, Yao?"

"Hm?"

"That hotel we were talkin' 'bout buildin' back at that island."

"...what about it?"

"Let's do it when we get better."

Yao gives an ecstatic beam and cuffing his arm with Alfred's, resting his head on his shoulder. Alfred smiles graciously and kisses his forehead, proceeding their stroll. 

* * *

When the plane lands, and they're able to drive home, it's around 5 in the evening. The two nations return with reluctance plastered on their faces. This place is undoubtedly of American residence, and just like Panda tells Yao with time they visit this place, it only seems to get 'fatter' each time. With the proper keys inserted into the lock, the duo step into house, deciding to sit for small rest, hands still locked together.

"Urgh...is it me, or is travelling suddenly exhausting?" Alfred fusses, sprawling out. Yao decides to lie down next to him in silent concurrence.

"It has to be because of the contamination within our bodies." He sighs, rubbing his temples with fatigue. It has stopped raining, at least.

Alfred groans in relief, stretching and yawning with great exaggeration.

"Whatever man, I just wanna get outta here again." Complains the American, unacquainted with reclusiveness.

"The guys should be here...soon." Yao says hopefully. "He should have some idea of where to find one of those lakes."

"Can this radiation junk really be fixed with splashing around in some dumb puddle?" Alfred questions rigidly, rolling his eyes.

"We have to trust that Arthur and Francis know what exactly they are doing." Yao puts simply. "I have to admit, it will be nice to bathe, at least."

"Heh...skinny dipping. Sounds wild. Sign me up." Alfred gives a snicker, rolling onto his side to look to the other. Yao makes a flustered murmur.

Just then, the door opens once again.

"Damn, that was quick." Alfred remarks, propping himself up into a sitting position. Arthur and Francis appear as the door shuts behind them. Yao rubs his eyes, finding the light to be particularly blinding this time.

They both look up to the two other nations in greeting.

"Sup, dudes?" The pudgy American salutes with a lazy wave.

Arthur looks between them before taking a seat on the edge of the couch. "Where did you two go?"

Yao inhales sharply, knowing that it wouldn't be any good to lie. "We went to the ruins of Pompeii, near Naples. Just for a short...look around."

"Mm. Did you run into anyone?" Francis asks cooly.

Alfred and Yao exchange glances, remembering the birds that died from exposure.

"Nope." Alfred chimes, rubbing one of his eyes underneath the lens of his glasses.

"Did you find a lake?" Yao urges, trying to steer the conversation in a more productive direction. He shutters in thought of the poor animals he unknowingly murdered.

"We did." Arthur says simply, brushing a blonde bang from his face. Yao and Alfred brighten at the answer.

"Where at, yo?" Asks Alfred.

"Lying on the border of Palestine and Israel. We should head there now." Arthur supplies in his usual straight-forwardness.

"Can't we like...nap for a few hours, first? I'm wrecked." Alfred grouses.

Yao frowns. "You lazy bum, you can't be serious. Of course we're going, now. The sooner we end this horrible mess, the better."

"Mmm, I wouldn't call it entirely 'horrible'." Decides the youngest, grinning promiscuously to Yao. "I'd say it's been pretty fun."

Francis cracks a smirk, looking to the hands that still hold onto each other as Arthur cringes.

Yao's face flares with a darker blush. "A-anyways...is there a quick way to get close to this..lake?"

"Sort of. The lake you're going to is mostly surrounded by steep mountains and thick forests. There's a small airline lies just outside of a small town called Horonaim."

"Whore-name?" Alfred echoes with his own vulgar inflection.

"HORO-NAIM." Arthur repeats correctively.

"Whore." Alfred says flatly with a teasing smile.

"Hor-o-nnnn...nevermind." His elder brother concedes with an eye roll, Yao squeezing Alfred's palm in silent reprimand. The grin doesn't fade.

"It should take you approximately an hour to get there." Arthur explains.

"Wait, but if you've been around us, how come you do not have to go to the lake, too? Aren't you the slightest bit contaminated?" Yao asks.

"I've concluded that the radiation affects a certain number of people. Your bodies are already able to hold so much so it would probably only affect small creatures. We do not need treatment, as we haven't spent a long time exposed to either of you. We're fine. But we do need to find out what to do about Ivan once we're able to locate him..." Arthur explains pensively.

"Besides, you two should do just fine on your own." Francis adds with a goaded nod.

"Oh yes we will." Alfred complies, giving Yao yet another suggestive glance.

Yao drags his hand down his face; despite Arthur and Francis having an inkling of what's going on between them, he still doesn't appreciate risque innuendos.

"Anyways..." Yao begins. "Perhaps if Alfred and I can decontaminate quickly, we can help rearrange everything." He suggests candidly, cringing a bit at the thought of his abuser. "I know how he is. He'll be back in a few days. That should be plenty of time."

"It will take more than just a dip." Arthur replies conscientiously. "You may need to collectively be submerged for several hours. I will come check on you tomorrow."

"I see..." Yao murmurs, more than a bit disheartened. "What direction from the landing is the lake?"

"Northwest."

"Do ya got a compass in that purdy 'ol bag of yours, Yao?" Asks the American, gently giving his arm a nudge.

Yao simply scoffs with an arrogant smile. "We will not need one, I have an incredible sense of direction."

Alfred rolls his eyes.

"Then it's settled. You two can head there now, and we'll check up on you tomorrow." Arthur finalizes, standing up to make a prompt exit. "Have fun." Francis smiles, disappearing in a flash.

/ / /

" _Whatever gave them...the idea...that we could climb...this whole_ _ **DAMN MOUNTAIN**_ _..._ " Alfred yells breathlessly, propping himself feebly against a tree. Were this like any other travel, exhaustion wouldn't even be a concept, but as it stands, they are just as weak, if not weaker than the average human. Yao is having a significantly even rougher time, needing to stop much more often and occasionally stumbling over himself.

"This...isn't exactly what I'd call a mountain, it's...more like a..." He breathes heavily, "...a bluff..."

"This is a fucking mountain, dude, not a lie. That doesn't even make any sense." Alfred groans, peeling his bangs from his sweaty face.

Yao relents a small wheeze. "No...a bluff is also a type of...land formation. Smaller than a mountain..."

"Don't you ever get bored of proving yourself...right." Alfred huffs, coughing a few times.

Yao doesn't bother with feedback, taking a seat on a large rocky outcrop. They sit together in the late-day sun, enjoying the shade from large willow trees, with nothing but the sounds of erratic breathing filling the space between them.

"Why did you bring your backpack? It's probably making it much more difficult for you." The Chinese man observes, idly swatting at an insect that flew too close.

"Uhhh, because when the sun goes down ya might get cold. I only brought the blanket." He replies coolly, despite being wearied.

"Oh..."

Yao, uncomfortable in his own coating of sweat, takes time to observe Alfred. He looks spent, to say the least. But despite his rough exterior, Yao admires him even more. There's something sexy about seeing the American boy so worn out and clammy. Yao wonders if he himself looks just as attractive when messy. Probably not.

"You lookin' for a fight?" Alfred speaks suddenly, yanking Yao away from his observations.

"...Excuse me?"

"You're starin' at me, what do ya want?" He jokes, half-grinning.

"No...I just...you look stunning, Alfred." Yao admits without thinking. The shorter one blushes considerably, unused to receiving such compliments.

…

Finally, at the base of the mountain - or bluff, as Yao identifies it, the shore to the great lake is visible. Alfred exhales with desperate relief. The sun is setting, and the lake itself has a certain sense of isolation; forests on one side, the bluffs on the other. The enclosure, with its grand landscape, feels almost like they're on another planet. The ground seems so dry and brittle; the lake, dark and serene.

The air is thick with the scent of salt; more so than that of the ocean shores of back home. They can almost taste the salt in the air aside from the metallic sensation already present.

"Soooo..." Alfred drawls, working up to the shore with Yao following. "Do we just...splash around in here until we feel better?"

"I'm sure it doesn't work that way...we probably need to have gradual, methodical submersion." Yao clarifies, stopping at the shoreline and looking out into the dark expanse. "If only we had some sort of device to measure radiation. Then we could just calculate how long we need to be in the wa—Aiyah! Alfred! What are you doing?!" Yao reprimands as he's interrupted when the younger slaps his hard on the ass. The lithe man startles forward to avoid another assault. Now ankle deep in the water, she turns to face Alfred, who wears that signature teasing smirk.

"I dunno', I just wanted to." Alfred shrugs.

"Hrrrmm..." Yao sulks. "Right...well, I suppose we should get right to it, then." He reluctantly decides, looking to Alfred expectantly. The American begins undressing, seemingly without issue. Yao stands awkwardly in a stiff posture, rubbing his forearm.

"Wassup, dude?" Alfred takes notice, stopping when he's down to his boxers.

"I'm just uh...a bit nervous, I guess?"

"Aww c'mon. I've seen your stuff before." He says playfully.

Yao hardens a little, but eventually complies with undressing.

Alfred, pleased with the sight of a very exposed Yao, takes the initiative. "Okay, lets do it."

The elder purses his lips, looking to Alfred's still half-clothed body. "Aren't you going to... take those off?" He inquires, flummoxed by the fact that he's the only one naked.

"Uhhh..." Alfred drawls, kicking a few pebbles. "Do I gotta?" He asks tacitly.

"Well...assuming the radiation inhibits your ability to dispel moisture or phase out of clothing in general, it'd probably be for the best. You don't want to sit in cold wet clothes, do you?"

"Maybe I do."

The alabaster nation raises his brows, finding the timid behavior to be...odd. He always seems so confident and self-assured at any other time, why would he be so embarrassed about being in the nude now? Yao, knowing that Alfred hates confidential questions, decides to try a more secure method of approach. Careful reassurance.

"There is no one around. It's fine." Yao attempts, reaching for Alfred's boxers. His reach is quickly pushed back by the reluctant man.

"You are." Alfred puts simply, cuffing Yao by the wrists.

"I...but..?" Yao stammers. "But I've...seen you before. What makes this any different?" He quizzes, blushing at the dim memories of their passionate spree.

"No, you didn't." He argues feebly. "It was like, really dark and cramped..."

"So?"

There is a pause. The petite refuses to give eye contact, keeping his eyes fixated onto the cool sand beneath him.

After a short moment of tense silence, Yao decides to take a more direct approach. "Alfred, look at me." He beckons softly.

The younger complies, met with a soft gaze. "You're _stunning_." Yao whispers, his expression melting into a warm smile. He cocks forward, capturing the other nation's lips in a delicate kiss that manages to calm him significantly; like soothing a cornered beast.

When they part, Alfred rolls his shoulders awkwardly, flustered at the tenderness. "Rrrrgghh...okay, okay.." He yields, turning away from the pale man and quickly pulling off the rest of his clothing. Yao is admittedly pleased. It's the first time he's really able to take in the sight of Alfred in all his resplendence.

It doesn't escape Yao's attention, however, that Alfred holds up a hand over his chest, still looking a tad bit timid.

Still persistent in making Alfred comfortable, he leans in, proceeding to pepper the other nation's newly exposed skin with fleeting kisses, especially around his chest. Alfred's face nearly combusts with utter discomposure under the weight of the sudden intimate affection he's been offered; a deepened blush, wide-eyed stare. Eventually, warmed up by Yao's heedless affection, Alfred surrenders his cover, exposing his member, to which Yao strokes his fingers over tactfully.

Finally, when they are both feeling assured enough, Yao takes imitiative, claiming Alfred's hands and walking backwards, guiding the man slowly into shallow waters. It's surprisingly balmy, which scientifically Yao pins down to the arid, hot temperatures the land is exposed to, being so close to the equator; that and salt is heat conducive- which there's a high concentration of.

There's a delicious feeling of freedom, being exposed, out in the open; exposed to only nature utterly and entirely. Yao uncharacteristically can't help but adopt a ridiculous smile at the concept. Never in his wildest dreams would he have even given thought to the idea of indulging in 'skinny dipping'. He hums a small giggle once he's waist deep, which only becomes contagious; as Alfred joins in the laughter.

The rich beam of light projecting from the setting sun reflecting off of the water's surface creates a sense of indescribable enchantment. Despite their height difference, Yao commissions himself to holding Alfred closer, in a sense carrying him weightlessly into the deeper waters.

A frightened gasp escapes Alfred, his legs drape around the smaller one's waist and grasping at his shoulders. Yao grins airily, reassuring the other that he wouldn't let go. They can both swim, but he prefers to keep Alfred close. His pale hands work beneath a pair of supple thighs, supporting the taller.

Now shoulder deep, Yao comes to a stop, taking time to admire Alfred fully, scattering gentle kisses over his face; eventually reacquainting their lips in a quiet persistence, innocently nibbling on the young American's lower lip.

It is as if kissing each time was an all new experience, exploring and mapping the other's mouth with quelled excitement. The excitement spreads as Yao targets Alfred's neck with the same treatment, stealing away bits of his flesh flossed in his teeth in playful biting. Alfred purrs, enjoying the attention.

The mixture of sunset, warm water, and the boundless desire between their skin is simply delectable and glamorous; sensual, even. When Yao ceases his senseless grazing upon the other's flesh, he pulls away accompanied by a final kiss to Alfred's forehead.

"How long do we gotta stay in here?" Alfred challenges, grinning with something Yao recognizes as a quiet impatience.

"Hmm.." He replies pensively, brushing his thumbs against the thighs that occupy his hands. The eye contact between them implies something of a lusting nature. "We just got in, what are you so impatient for?"

Alfred grins wickedly, pressing his fingertips into the shorter man's back for emphasis. "I've got important business to take care of."

"Oh?" Yao responds playfully, stroking the cowlick which stands erect on his hair. "Important business? Such as?" 

" ** _You_**." 


	7. Arc 1 - Wet & Exposed (Part 2)

**_6_**

The apprehension is palpable. They remain submerged in hyper-saline water for as long as they could possibly bare - that being when Yao said they could, because if it were up to Alfred to decide, they would hardly have stayed in for more than a mere few seconds. The sun has since disappeared, and taking its place, a moon and a brilliant display of the elevating heavens.

When they've come ashore, Alfred is swift to rummage his backpack for the blanket; not because it's cold, but because he acknowledges that Yao isn't going to be receptive to any kind of pleasure if he's lying bare back in the jagged sand.

Who would?

Yao gives total absorption to this and watches with a silent anxiety, holding himself shakily. How can he be so worked up over this? He had no problem giving pleasure to Alfred, he's done so before...yet something about receiving the same treatment is somehow - frightening? Intimidating?

Their surroundings are silent, save for the sounds of rustling leaves in a light breeze. Not even the insects scattered among the dark nature are chattering. Alfred perches himself down when the blanket is tactfully spread out, patting to the spot in front of him in a beckoning manner. Yao can feel a tightening in his stomach and a sudden chest hitching at being summoned, and at first remains idle in his current location.

A silent discernment reaches Alfred that the elder is nervous, and attempts to assure the other with an innocent smile. Yao sighs in surrender, cautiously approaching the spot reserved for him. When he sits down, his body only seems to stiffen with anxiety. As if his entire flesh is being sucked into his bones. The American is mindful of this, simply placing a hand over Yao's, holding it tenderly with additional comforting caresses.

The brunette relaxes marginally, slackening his shoulders. Alfred finds the nerve to lean in cautiously, granting Yao a few soft kisses along his jaw.

Alabaster fingers tighten their grip on tan, anticipating what will come next. Another hand reaches forward, coming to rest on Yao's waist, while finally, Alfred's lips seek to claim the other's with a surprisingly predatory kiss. The dancer is receptive, tilting his head to give them a better angle.

Their kiss is slow, exploratory, and passionate. Yao, deciding to be submissive, granting Alfred the freedom to do as he pleases. Being taken care of this way is possibly the most intimate interaction he has ever participated in.

The hand placed at his waist is well-mannered, only moving slightly in elliptical motions for a calming stimulation. His skin prickles with a certain enticement. Releasing his hand from Alfred's, he works his fingertips against the back of the other's neck, silently urging for more. This is, after all, an activity with an end goal.

The heroic nation acquiesces, both of his hands now claiming ownership of Yao's delicate and pure waist, working down to and offering a soothing massage. The gesture finally provokes Yao into a carnal mindset, spreading his legs in invitation.

Alfred accepts this with glee, gently pushing Yao to lie down and climbing on top. His hand mindlessly scales down the length of Yao's lanky thighs, making the shorter's skin prickle with quiet excitement.

"Are you okay?" Alfred asks faintly, pulling away and looking down to a clearly distressed Chinese.

Silence. Yao simply nods.

"Y'know you can tell me if I'm going too fast?" He follows up, genuine concern on his face.

"No, I'm alright." Yao affirms, smiling airily.

Plush lips return, encouraging Yao to open his mouth, to which he eagerly complies. Their tongues are quick to come together in sultry reunion, lathing over each other feverishly. The kiss is delectable, sparking in Yao a desire for even more action, diminishing his nervousness almost instantly. Something between his hips flickers. A small passion that will only continue to grow.

Alfred's palms gracefully glide upward, stopping just beneath each of Yao's breasts. Their lips part, and the tanned is met with a pair of lidded amber eyes that convey his consent. To Alfred, this is a learning opportunity; he wants to see how Yao reacts to everything, he wants to know what will feel good and, especially, what will get him excited. Small hands graze over Yao's chest, kneading and pressing against the small flesh. It's the sudden quieted gasp that gives Alfred an indication of excitement.

His thumbs brush over Yao's nipples, promoting her to shiver. Alfred smiles, fevered to explore the alabaster man with abandon. With another short kiss, he reduces himself, arresting Yao's breasts with a stiff grip, making man beneath him emit a soft whimper. With inexperienced movements, Alfred flicks harshly at the exposed nipples, forcing them to become erect.

Yao muffles a groan, finding it painful, yet sadistically pleasing. A small cackle vibrates in Alfred's throat, lowering his head to just barely graze his tongue over one of them. The elder writhes beneath him, arching his spine and giving Alfred the benefit of hearing a small yelp.

Encouraged to do more, he inserts a nipple into his mouth, pressing the surface of his tongue against sensitive flesh.

" _Mmmhhh_..." Yao moans at the given pleasure. Alfred's lips curve, pleased at the sound, and he elects to bite down softly, increasing the volume of the other's vocalizations. He tugs gently, letting go for a moment before returning and nursing the the nipple between his lips, sucking and biting sparingly. The same treatment is given to the other breast, albeit more rough and demanding. Yao's face is completely flushed in a deep orange tinge, overrun by the new sensations.

When Alfred pulls away, there's no hiding the disappointment bubbling in Yao's throat, but the disappointment doesn't last for long. Soft lips are pressed to Yaol's hairline, causing him to go stiff. The act itself is tender, and intimate, and Yao can feel himself melting at the affection.

A trail of kisses is mapped along his face, and dreadfully down the ticklish flesh of his neck. He playfully bites at Yao's well-defined collar bones, sighing hotly against them.

Dull fingernails are scraped downward, from Yao's breasts, to over his ribs, stomach and hips down to the thighs, leaving light red etchings in its path.

He pulls away, looking down at the frazzled man lying on his back, completely indisposed and helplessly turned on.

Alfred, despite having done this before, is still a novice. He feels...lacking, to a degree. There's no fluid movement to his gestures - he's haphazardly teasing and testing Yao. It's like trying to learn how to ride a bicycle.

The alabaster nation becomes puzzled, looking up at Alfred, who seems to have lost his train of thought. He reaches forward, holding Alfred's face delicately.

"Is..something wrong?" He questions nervously, slightly disappointed at the pause in action.

"Uhm...no, I just - lemme know if I'm doin' anything wrong, 'kay?" He justifies, wishing he could be more confident.

Yao conveys agreement to the request; finding the innocence in his voice to be absolutely precious. The flustered look on Yao's face is enough to transfer Alfred from his moment of hesitation.

Moving closer to bridge the gap, their bodies make full contact, skin against skin in a delectable unity. He covetously reclaims Yao's mouth, kissing him, firmly. Yao's hips roll against his teammate's, his willowy fingers dig into the flesh of Alfred's spine, grasping for some semblance of stability. Their hips begin rocking in contrast to one another, becoming engaged in an erotic tempo. With each ministration placed against him, Yao's demeanor becomes less and less composed. Sweat accumulates over his pale skin, clinging to his form and working as a scandalous lubricant between their bodies.

The noises Alfred makes with each motion, that depraved and determined grunting mixed with heavy panting sends Yao into the peak of ecstasy. For an instant, he considers how stunning the view is from on his back; above him, the nation he is so enticed by, working against him like a boundless heathen, and the crystal clear view of millions of stars, unobstructed by the common light pollution. He finds it hard to keep up with the pace; his breathing becoming ragged and disparate.

Dull fingernails dig deeper into the dominant man's back, breaking tan flesh. Alfred lets out a pained yet pleasured growl, his hips jolting harder against Yao's in a sadistic thrill. Yao becomes plain desperate, craning his hips upward to gain better friction, but never quite fulfilled - he's going to need so much more, and Alfred can practically feel the desperate energy pulsating from his teammate. This makes him more conscious...aware that Yao's orgasm depends solely on when exactly Alfred decides to give it.

Such power is simply appetizing.

Alfred is diligent, taking time to patch Yao's neck and shoulders with vibrant bruises and hickeys while they proceed with perverse rocking. He anticipates the moment when Francis, Arthur, or anyone for that matter witnesses these blatant marks of intimacy. His stolid teeth ravaging alabaster skin with a sense of pride.

"P-please..." The lithe man strangles, signaling Alfred to cease rigorous foreplay; and indicating just how futile and aroused Yao is. Alfred remarks at how polite Yao can be, even in such shameless situations as this one.

He smirks, stealing another luscious kiss and making one last push with his hips, savoring the sight of a very fomented Yao.

His paws slither beneath Yao's thighs, massaging and rolling his thumbs against such delicate flesh. Yao, caught between dishonorable lust and anxiousness, bites into his own index finger, watching the American in clear anticipation.

"Please what?" Alfred nibbles his bottom lip, grinning precociously.

The idea of having to vocally request what is obviously so desperately wanted is infuriating to the brunette. He swallows, several times, and Alfred notices each of them; watching Yao's poor neck bobble as he struggles with speech.

" ** _Touch me_**." He says finally, adding an additional 'please' at the end.

"Oh, you mean like this?" Teases the younger, brushing his middle finger over Yao's chode.

A desperate plea boils in Yao's throat, blended with a clear disdain for being tormented this way. He looks to Alfred, slight frustration painting his face. The blonde cackles, leaning forward so that his mouth lingers near Yao's neck, making sure to continue the torture by sighing against his skin.

The elder trembles, waiting for something, anything.

"You gotta' let me use my mouth." Alfred whispers hazily. Yao's face becomes inflamed at the request, invaded by a disgusting curiosity in wondering how his tongue would feel down there.

"A..Alfr...no. That's - _aiyah_! That's disgusting!" He lies, failing miserably to mask his excitement.

Alfred groans, placing a few kisses along Yao's alabaster shoulder in gentle persuasion. "Please?"

Manners have never been at the top of Alfred's social habits; so when he says 'please', Yao is admittedly surprised.

"I...I don't know...wh..." His response is tangled; mind going thousands of miles a second. His desire for pleasure is strong, but so are his penchants for maintaining some form of decency. "Why?" He finally manages, feeling the heat between them remain at a standstill, forming quiet anticipation.

Another kiss brushes his neck, and there's a pause.

"I wanna' taste you." He breathes, squeezing Yao's thighs for emphasis. Any semblance Yao had left was suddenly gone, and his ability to speak beyond that of a whimper disappears with it.

" _Nnnhh_..."

Thumbs press into his pointed hips, tracing their curves in firm beckon. "Let me take care of you, Yao."

"I...wh...what if I don't like -"

"- Then I'd stop. Duh." He puts plainly. "But I'm, like, 110% sure you'll love it."

Yao swallows dryly, feeling himself become dizzy at the prospect. "Mmm...o-okay. Fine." He resigns, loosening his grip on Alfred's back and committing them to firmly grasp the blanket beneath him.

"Good boy." The American reels with a grin, nipping at her shoulder.

Alfred treks down the length of Yao's anatomy at an amateur pace; swift in certain spots, but slow in others. Eager to pierce the skin around his small breasts, the thin man hushes a squeal.

Pulling away, Alfred looks up to the other with one eye, smirking unbearably. "C'mon, dude... no one will hear you..."

Yao's eyes meet with cerulean, and for a moment he's confused. "Wh? Excuse me?"

Alfred scoffs, grinning promiscuously. "You don't gotta be quiet."

"I -"

"- Let loose." Alfred urges. "I want you to be loud."

He complies with a soft nod, if not to satiate Alfred, but to get his to continue.

Small kisses placed carefully over Yao's stomach earn playful giggles at first, but it dissipates as Alfred's mouth stops just above his chastity.

Another pause; Yao clamps his chocolate eyes shut, tightening his grip on the fabric beneath him in preparation.

Seconds feel like hours, waiting for contact, waiting for gratification. Holding his breath. Body taut with anticipation. For a moment, the thought of Ivan intrudes his mind. How would Ivan feel if he knew..? If he knew that Yao is moving on, after he swore on his life he would be his property forever. If he knew that Yao was being intimate with the very nation he's used to be irritated by constantly. If he knew that Yao was now someone else's...

"Relax." The stout man whispers, mouth lingering over him. The command rips his train of thought to shreds, only exciting Yao further.

He can't possibly relax. Not when he's inches away to receiving - oral.

" _ **Aiyah**_!" His breath hitches. Full lips press against Yao's dick, just for a second, and are reapplied in a firm kiss, slipping over his chode with dedication. He sucks gently; careful not to try anything too exciting. The sensation, to Yao, is admittedly...magnificent. His hips roll slightly, making Alfred grin with eagerness. Between his legs, he can feel pulsing; slow and insistent.

Hands are placed over Yao's knees, pulling them apart further until she's splayed to her limit. Completely exposed, Alfred's lips depart, and he is pleased to take in the sights, staring down at his exposed sex.

"Damn, dude..." He regards with marked satisfaction. "You're...fuckin' _hot_."

Wide-eyed, Yao stiffens, unable to accept the admiration; further made uncomfortable at the visual appraisal.

Their eyes meet, and for a second, he swears he can feel his heart in his throat.

"I'm gonna' fuck you good." Alfred growls, plunging his middle finger inside Yao, hard.

Again, Yao muffles a whimper, holding still. The sensation is...slippery, and tight. Just as fast, Alfred pulls out, much to Yao's dismay. The alabaster man watches with heated intensity as his teammate makes a point to lick the residue from his fingertips, moaning in approval at the taste he's imbibing.

The shorter bites his lip, hopelessly revolted- yet equally aroused at the sight.

Alfred returns, lowering his head and pressing thick lips to his chode again, sucking and biting aggressively. The continuity and lucidness of his movements are...poor, to say the least, but he's not too concerned with this - it's a new experience, and he hardly expects Alfred to get the hang of things on his first time giving Yao...intercourse.

His tongue invites itself against Yao's exposure, swirling and pushing against sensitive nerves, awakening Yao to a whole new height of pleasure. He gasps, clawing at the blanket but finding no security in this grip. His hands quickly relocate to Alfred's mane, tangling in his hair for support.

Moaning boils in his throat, a moan he refuses to release.

Saliva meshes with Yao's nectar, creating a mess that starts to drip and smear over his thighs as well as around Alfred's lips. This might be the only mess that Yao approves of. His hips start working, slowly, up and down against warm tongue. With each plunge, he can feel his desires building. Lips pressing and sliding over her sex gradually, working into him wildly. Hjs grip over Alfred's head tightens, pushing his down for more while he continues to cycle his hips.

He notices Alfred's breathing becoming more and more uneven, coming up less and less for air and staying focused on giving Yao pleasure. He'd say something to give the other a break, but becomes greedy with his own hunger, throwing his head back and focusing on the heaven between his thighs. Alfred's tongue is simply luscious; erratic and vigorous. Working between his balls with absolute starvation. His teeth bare against Yao's scrotum occasionally, making the lithe man whine softly, still refusing to be vocal.

Lips pull away for a moment. " _Say my name_." He orders, not unlike the time Yao commanded the same thing. He sighs desperately, finding it difficult to honor the command.

As the pause lingers, Alfred grips Yao's legs, forcing them upward and contorting the Asian into an even more exposed position, knees pushed down onto the blanket to either side of his head. He complains, finding the sudden position to be awkward and distressing.

The tongue returns between his legs, only this time curling and pressing against his chode. Yao is appalled, stammering on Alfred's name. Shameless, sloppy kisses work against him, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body.

" _Aaahh...p..please.._ " He begs, hoping Alfred would understand what he wants.

"Not until you say it." He breathes, biting Yao's inner thigh in rebuke.

" _Hhh...Al..freed_." He groans, arching his back and fighting weakly against the blonde's constraint on his thighs. He can't recall ever being put in this position...ever. However, being as flexible as he is proves to be...beneficial, to say the least.

His name being the magic word, Alfred's tongue plunges into him, thick and wet. He whimpers, biting his lip harder to resist anything louder escaping.

As if fueled by his wanting to make Yao scream, he accelerates his motions, pushing his tongue in harder, pulling out and flicking it against his sensitive nub, working through a slick scrotum haphazardly. Whether Alfred is aware of it or not, his nails are digging into Yao's thighs, splitting skin; the pain excites the alabaster skinned.

"Alfred.." He moans eagerly, writhing in his mindless ecstasy. " _Mmmhh...Al..fre..._ " Yao chokes, dissociating from his surroundings, engulfed by his need to ejaculate.

Freeing one of Yao's legs, he swiftly thrusts his finger into his penis, making the lithe become unraveled, spilling out an intense howl. Added to that, Alfred's tongue swirls and caresses his sex, depraved and greedy.

Pumping in and out, Yao's penis begins contracting, desiring more, and Alfred delivers. Another finger is added, at first, making the shorter man groan, finding it to be tight and painful. He whimpers, gripping weakly at Alfred's wrist to get him to pull out. The gesture goes overlooked in the midst of his sexual stupor, and Alfred only pushes harder, jarring his hand faster.

Unable to stifle his vocal pleasure, Yao yells, loud, only exciting Alfred to work ruthlessly. Exerting his tongue against the other, unrestrained and furious. Yao cries out, escalating into his climax.

" _Ah_ _ **hh..ah..**_ " His body agonizes, twisting under the rampant pleasure between his legs. He fathers the audacity to open his eyes, looking down to see the action. The sight of his team mate, being orally fixated on his sex intensifies his pleasure somehow, and suddenly when Alfred's hand hits him just right, he is overtaken by a powerful orgasm, causing his moans to elevate into out-right screams; his eyes clamp back shut, and his head is forced backward in the moment of culmination.

Alfred pulls his mouth away, wanting to take in the sight of Yao mid-frenzy. His hand labors steadily, pulsing in and out with devotion until Yao completes riding out his peak of pleasure.

 ** _6_**

The American is undoubtedly amused and proud; watching Yao as he comes down from his sexual power-trip, breathing uneven, face painted in a deep rouge. His legs weaken, sluggishly clamping together as the aftermath of his orgasm recedes. He's gorgeous, and Alfred wishes they could do it again, if just to hear Yao scream some more.

Out of breath and drained of all energy, Yao is disabled, falling limp against the blanket and struggling to catch up. His head is spinning, and he clamps his eyes shut, feeling a sense of thrill course through him. Head swimming, he's almost unaware of when Alfred climbs up next to him, pecking a warm kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter open, looking to his team mate with spent appreciation, smiling weakly.

" _Mmmh._." Is all he offers to Alfred, who mimics the sound with tender inflection.

A hand caresses Yao's face gently, he murmurs, closing his eyes once more. Involuntarily, hot tears begin forming in his eyes, earning a look of confused concern from the American.

"...Yao?" Alfred inquires, gently wiping the tears away with his thumb.

Sniffling, Yao is quick to collect himself. It must be the emotional peak she's experiencing, being so close to someone... being made love to and being cared for... He smiles weakly, shaking his head. "Apologies...I'm fine." He explains, voice hoarse. "I'm just...happy."

Alfred mirrors the smile, kneeling down and kissing the lithe man on the cheek. "If you say so."

There's no turning back now; Yao knows this. Sure, sex is just sex, but Yao opened himself up to something he never thought he'd ever indulge in...let alone in experience with Alfred, of all people. Being on earth for so long, you start to unlearn the customs of where you were from and begin to acclimate to new ones. However, physical intimacy, as described by 'educated' human psychologists, is only a fraction of what makes up a good...relationship. Communication and connection is important, as well - and Yao knows for certain that they have a lot of catching up to do in those departments...

But one thing is for certain, Yao relishes oral sex, despite his obvious apprehensions. Alfred's tongue feels like...heaven, to put simply.

"Whatcha' thinkin about?" Drawls the youngest, tracing idle patterns over Yao's chest. He looks to Alfred, pulling away from his inner monologues.

Now would probably be the best time for...conversation. Communication. Conveying his concerns.

"What will happen after...this?" Yao asks, voice timid and anxious.

Taken aback by the question, Alfred ponders for a moment, deciding to answer the question with a question. "What do you mean?"

He hums for a moment, struggling to form coherent words. "As in...are we..? Are we going to be...something?"

" _Something_?" Alfred echoes, smiling. "You mean...like a couple?"

"...yes."

"Oh, well..." Alfred quickly looks away, a small blush creeping to his cheeks. "Do you...want to? I kinda thought we already were since this was, like, our third time." His brow creases, finding the subject to be too raw for his comfort.

"I don't think I would have...engaged you in this way...were I not at least interested in the prospect." He phrases carefully, starting to fidget with his fingers, and his knees glue themselves together in subconscious discomfort. "And, well, I just want things to be - crystal clear, before we go back."

Alfred fails to come up with any sort of response, sitting up to stare out at the lake. Yao cautiously watches, wondering if he has said something wrong.

"Alfred..." He tries softly, struggling for a moment to sit up with him. He draws his knees up to his chest, feeling cold now that he's not in the delectable heat of intercourse.

"I've had feelings for you for a long time, man. It's just like - really hard to think about any of this being real...y'know? Like I've always just accepted that you would only love you-know-who before all this went down..." He explains in reference to Yao's former Russian lover, "I'm just - urgh, what's the word...surprised, I guess."

"What makes it such a surprise?" Yao asks, staring down at his knees.

Alfred scoffs sarcastically, amused at the question. "Really, dude?! You're honestly that clueless?!"

Yao leans away, caught off-guard by the sudden raise in voice.

"You were like - always trying to find ways to argue with me and correct me and let me know what whatever I was doing; I was doing it wrong. All you did was coddle Ivan and I was just, jealous, I guess. So excuse me if I'm fuckin' surprised that you suddenly wanna fuck me!"

"Language..." Yao mumbles as if disregarding the explanation.

"Example one." The younger groans, glowering at the lake.

Yao blushes, ashamed. "Please, don't be so angry...I...it is not like I actively pursue the instrument of criticizing you, it just, happens. And this is NOT just about...being physically intimate with you...I - I...I feel things for you, too."

With a calm exhale, Alfred collects himself, trying not to resort to another moody outburst as he normally does. "Well...maybe you can...lighten up on the nagging, since you wanna' make this happen."

"But do you want it to happen...?"

"Uh, duh! Of course I do...it's just like - I just want to make sure you're not just...doing this because you're bored or lonely. I don't wanna be the next Ivan..." He states awkwardly, knowing that any subject involving Ivan Braginski is risky.

"Wh - what do you mean?" Yao questions, feeling a pang in his chest at the implication.

"Urgh...do we _gotta'_ talk about this..?"

"...I suppose not, but I would rather discuss it now while we have the privacy."

The American sighs, regretting saying anything. This night could have been just a romantic, endless mantra of taking turns fucking each other's brains out but now it's going to be a saga of explanations and... a painfully honest conversation. "Geez, Yao, can't you just lemme eat you out again? That's way more fun."

Blushing harder, Yao grunts a little. "Alfred..." He coaches.

Another sigh. "I mean like...the way you practically worshiped Ivan - it was super weird and uncomfortable to watch...and I don't want you to cling to me just because you're lonely and have nothing better to do...and no one else to love."

"He manipulated me into doing that."

Alfred's thoughts pause, eyes still fixated on the shore before the but hearing focused on Yao.  
"At first, I just thought we were good friends, and that was all. He started getting creepier and eventually got me to serve him...and if I did not..." His words choke painfully, reluctant to finish his explanation, " _This_ would happen."

Yao frowns, saddened at how he'd been perceived by his ally. But he understands how Alfred would feel this way, especially with how ridiculously devoted Yao was to Ivan. It certainly draws Yao's attention to the concept, questioning himself if he may be 'clinging' to Alfred for the affection rather than out of a desire to be genuinely close to him. For a while, they remain quiet, mulling over their heavy thoughts.

He has to question himself... he has to wonder what exactly he loves about Alfred. What he finds so enticing. Alfred is...loud, stubborn, obnoxious, spontaneous, irrational, powerful, tender, playful, beautiful, caring, exciting...magnificent. He could go on...but all these things just seem...lacking, in summing up the tanned man entirely. Words can't possibly assemble themselves in any which way to perfectly describe the experience that is Alfred. He simply...is. And Yao loves it.

In this respect...Yao is lead to question what it is that Alfred sees in him. Comparing himself to the wild spirit that is Alfred is...somewhat depressing, to say the least. He could get a bit loud and boisterous at times. And so it is with this reverence that he decides to pursue his own questions.

"What is it that you...I mean..that is...why do you -? Why do you like...me?" He quizzes, clicking his jaw several times in unrest.

" _ **HAHA**_!" Alfred cackles, face palming. "I know, right?! You're like...the King of Dumbassville! I don't even know why, dude, I just... whenever you're around me I get all fucked up and when I hear your voice it's confusing and...distracting. I can't think straight when you look at me most times." He huffs, adjusting his glasses.

"But I mean - uh...I think you're...awesome...and it's also pretty cool how you're always trying so hard to observe and stay on top of everything, I guess..." His voice tapers off; embarrassed that he's admitting any of this. "You're super smart n' creative, you're so strong and - _perfect_...it kinda pisses me off sometimes when I notice how much time I spend just _thinking_ about you."

Flustered, Yao looks away further down the shoreline, reaching up to cover the blush dominating his face. He is far from perfect, and he'd undoubtedly argue this fact were he not so exhausted. It wasn't exactly the clear answer he'd wanted, yet it somehow satiated his curiosity. It'll have to do; at least for the time being, anyways.

"Do I really need a specific reason to like you?" Alfred asks finally turning back to look at him with quiet intensity. Yao falls over himself trying to adjust to the serious side of his usually playful teammate.

"No..I...I just... _mmmh_." Yao frowns, mentally lacking from spending so much energy trying to keep himself from combustion during sex.

The tall blonde snickers, lying back down on his side and quickly wrapping Yao in a warm embrace. "You make a lot of weird faces, man."

The lithe man grumbles, lightly bumping foreheads with the other. "I sincerely hope that is a good thing..."

"Hell yeah it is." He snorts. "It's kinda cute, I like it."

"At least you are amused." He offers a feeble grin, curling his body closer.

"Mm..." Alfred trills thoughtfully. "Maybe that's why I do a lot of stupid shit. 'Cuz it makes your face do funny things." He justifies, prodding Yao in the face with a finger. "I especially liked that face you made when you came."

Yao's shoulders jerk, caught off by the lewd observation. He cringes at the thought of what awful faces he made during his orgasm. He whimpers, burying his face into Alfred's chest.

"Awh, don't be so shy, hon. You look hot when you're moaning my name."


	8. Arc 1 - Overture

summary: end of arc 1! i had an idea for arc 2 thaat doesnt make a alotta sense now that i really think abt it but im not abandoning this fic! i jus need to scrape up some ideas lmao

"I'm. SO. **_BORED_**!" Drones the American, floating on his back through the water. It's mid-noon, the day after their night of passion. The sun is scorching hot, and there's not a cloud in the sky that would give promise of shade. It's easily well over 100 degrees, and Alfred's continued whining is making the heat somehow even less bearable. How can he go from being such a passionate lover to acting like a petulant child stuck in the back seat of a car during a long drive?

In an attempt to hush the younger, Yao pass-aggressively splashes him.

"I'm sure Arthur and Francis are just busy decontaminating the house." He says flatly, scooping some water into his hands and dashing it across his face.

Alfred grumbles, glowering at the man who holds his affections. While Yao is rubbing his face, Alfred drifts closer, collecting salty water in his mouth as he goes.

"Besides, it's not _so_ bad. I mean, there aren't any peopooA _AAAAUHH_ - ** _AIYAH_**!" Yao screams when he's suddenly assaulted with water expelled from Alfred's mouth. "That's... that is so _disgusting_!"

"Hahaaaa...Oh really? So it's only acceptable to use my mouth when I'm -"

"- Stop it right there." He deadpans, wiping his face in sheer revulsion. "You cannot compare violating my face with -"

"- violating that dick, _straight up_." He interjects with a smirk, returning to floating on his back and appearing completely relaxed. "Aw, chill out, man. If anything it's helping. It's healing water!"

"I was perfectly fine bathing myself, thank you." He says flatly, watching the other nation drift by.

"Mannnn... I thought fuckin' ya would make you loosen up at least a little." Alfred sighs, keeping his eyes shut. "And yes, I mean that in more ways than one." He adds with a goofy grin.

Yao frowns. Maybe he is being too... _uptight_?

All too suddenly, Yao feels something creeping up his throat, exuded from his mouth in thick, dark violet liquid. It tastes like lead and burns his mouth. He doesn't dare touch it, instead taking a few steps back from the water that becomes tainted by it. Blood seeps from his hairline, cascading down his face. Alfred loses his balance in shock, quickly standing up to assist the other.

"Woah, what the hell is going on?!" He panics, holding Yao up so he doesn't go under. He has no choice but to wait whatever it is out, since Yao seems completely unresponsive. The event lasts only a few more seconds before he snaps out of it. He coughs up the rest of it, almost gagging.

"Is this morning sickness?" Alfred jokes nervously, Yao gives him a strained side glance.

" _Why is this...happening to me_?" He chokes feebly, rubbing his throat and glancing to Alfred; who looks as pristine as ever. The younger forms no response, gathering water in his hands and using it to clean the black material away.

"Maybe its a good thing." He groans, leaning into Alfred's touch. "Maybe it's a sign that the toxins are leaving? I dunno..." He sighs, disheartened at his lack of knowledge on this certain subject.

Alfred examines Yao's tired body; it's still as lanky as ever but not as lustrous as it used to be. He keeps his observations to himself, however, and simply resigns to rubbing Yao's back trying to comfort him.

* * *

Night time. Again. Alfred has completely given up on raving about how bored he currently is and how there's nothing to do. Yao only leaves the water occasionally, because he hates the pruning effect water has on his skin if he's submerged for too long. If Yao takes a break from bathing, so does Alfred; and the time spent on shore entails lethargic cuddling and relaxed make outs. Yao would admit that it's... peaceful. And he doesn't think he has ever seen Alfred so... _calm_? The way he fidgets with Yao's hair while they lie together in the shade is simply delightful.

Their lives are so typically objective driven from day to day, its hard to just... unwind, and not think about what needs to be done.

Yao hasn't left the water since the episode. Instead he sits in the water, shoulder deep and quietly observing their environment. Alfred is distressed, but doesn't dare mention anything because it's too difficult and depressing to talk about. A silent worry that the radiation is somehow more harmful to Yao is caution for concern. And he's absolutely frustrated that he can't do anything at all about it; that they have to wait for Arthur and/or Francis to show up to confirm anything.

"You alright?" Alfred asks, taking the spot next to his silent teammate in the water.

" _Mm..._ " Yao makes a small noise, which doesn't really affirm a yes or a no.

"This stuff is kinda freakin' me out." Alfred admits, staring out at the water's surface. Calm surroundings do little to help the immense tension.

"It is probably nothing." Yao says, clearly unconvinced of his own words.

"Tch. That's supposed to be my line."

Yao glances over, seeing genuine sadness etched into Alfred's face. He wishes desperately he could comfort him, but he himself can hardly be comforted. He leans in closer, initiating a small kiss upon Alfred's warm lips. The gesture apparently does more good than expected, as a smile forms soon after.

A goofy grin is plastered on Alfred's face as he wraps his arms around Yao, his head residing on his bare chest.

Silence escalates within minutes, Yao's breathing becoming deep and sleep-like. The breathing soon becomes snoring, Alfred unable to stifle a small chuckle.

He stares down at him for a moment; observing. Observing every scar which painted his bony, delicate flesh in a white and red tint. Observing his alabaster face, which radiates with honor and nobility. Observing his nude skin, registering every beautiful part in a lackadaisical, but pleasuring process. Every once in a while, Yao would give a small, unconscious smile, Alfred a bit saddened to know that the only genuine happiness he could feel in this state is within a dreamland. He realizes how perfect he is, how much he is worth preserving.

He is the one worth fighting for.

He is his hero.

Alfred keeps him in a secure embrace and kisses the top of Yao's head before he himself begins to doze off. Yao unconsciously smiles and entangles his limbs with his new lover, sleeping peacefully for the time being.

* * *

" _ **Mnnnghh...**_ " Yao, for the third time that night, is awaken by a sharp pain.

He's exhausted. But it's as if his anatomy is banning him from any amount of the sleep he needs.

The Asian looks up to a sleeping Alfred next to him. He should've known his agonizing moans and groans wouldn't wake him; Hell, it'd take the entire American and Chinese military at the very least to drag him out of dreamland. Yao can't help but smile, stealing a quick kiss on his cheek before sitting up.

Forfeiting the idea of sleep, Yao decides to take in the sight of the body of lake before them.

The liquid securing the two is vodka-clear, the heavens above reflecting onto the surface. The tranquality atmosphere of the utopian area remains silent, not even the insects scattered about aren't chattering. It's magnificent. With Alfred to share this stunning view with, he feels at peace, forgetting all his troubles.

Suddenly, Yao creates a sharp, pained inhale, this cramp being worse than the ones before. Then another one.

And another one; this time, blood ejaculating from his gut, earning a blood-curdling scream.

This one manages to awaken Alfred, who shoots up almost immediately to attend to the pained Asian.

"Dude, what the hell's happening?!" It's not as if he can answer; mustering words would only increase the pain.

Suddenly - his pupils abscond to the back of his head, leaving a pale void in their place. More black goo extracts from his ajar lips as he collapses onto his knees, his face following swiftly after.  
" ** _YAO!_** " Alfred kneels down to the man, lifting his limp body to where his face can meet with this. Yao's face is paler than before, agonizing tears travelling down his eyes as he still feels every ounce of excruciating pain.

Alabaster skin, flawless like a blank sheet of parchment awaiting the touch of an ink quill, is quickly scarres by an indirect force. The third strike is harder, followed by a fourth, fifth, and sixth. Each strike earning its own unique, muted groan. Tears are already forming in his eyes. It stings like fire. Like having salt and lemon juice poured into his wounds each time the strikes return, creating a morbid artwork of lashings.

Alfred is frantic. Eyes darting over the sands where Yao's blood is scattered in gruesome display. He's paralyzed in fear.

Ideas struggle to enter his head, but he manages to preform the only idea he can compose; place him back into the lake.

He swiftly carries him to the water and cautiously places him in.

No helpful response. Just more agonizing groans - as if salt is being rubbed into his wounds.

" _ **ARTHUR! FRANCIS, GET OVER HERE!**_ " It's obvious his pleas are inaudible. He doesn't know where else to turn.

A whimper claws up his throat, tumbling out in a strangled, tearful groan as he falls to his knees into the liquid.

His surroundings are painfully silent. Alfred also becomes aware of a faint ringing in his ears; possibly from hearing such a distressing situation. Idly, he picks at his ear with his pinky finger, as if digging at it will solve anything. Yao's body is warm against his own, only making Alfred miss his voice and personality even more. The fact that his last glimpse of him conscious was a bloodied corpse doesn't make any of this easier.

His hand is raw; tender from gripping Yao's so rigidly for so long. Now it simply reminds him of the deed; a gentle throbbing coursing through his palm and fingertips. It would be nothing to heal this; after all, he isn't tainted anymore. But he supposes he'll keep the pain a while longer, as a way to punish himself for, as he percieves it, for not preforming his duties as hero. After all, Yao has endured far worse in comparison. Yao is tougher than he believes himself to be, he represents one of the strongest countries in the universe - yet that's been evident to Alfred for a long time now. He's always known Yao to have such incredible endurance.

It'd be impossible to fall asleep now. Not on the chance that Yao might reawaken at any moment. And not with this horrible anxiety plaguing his thoughts. Per his paranoia, he lifts Yao's face to his own, observing it with great intensity just to make sure nothing is wrong.

It's perfect. Yao is perfect.

Two pairs of eyes observe the taller nation, and to the Asian gently clutched by his stocky hands. It has come to their attention the events leading up to now. The attacks that had been composed. The desperate transgressions. The abuse. The heat of the moment and the cold of the aftermath. What happened in Yao's nation while they were gone was nothing short of a heedless, hopeless machination of extreme violence on Yao's part. The American has always been careless and quick-triggered, and has experienced this sort of terrorism before, but both Arthur and Francis know that Alfred would've gladly traded places with Yao.

He did love himself with a great gratification, but he was one of the most selfless countries they had ever seen.

And yet, despite having a strong sense of what has transpired, the duo can't keep themselves from pressing.

"China was attacked..." Arthur renders, arms crossed but remaining at least somewhat calm. There was no wasy way to put it. Fortunately, Yao's body is still intact.

He stares at the open wounds scattered among Yao's nude body. Looking down to the Asian in his hold, worried that somehow Yao can hear the conversation.

But those words shot Alfred like a bullet. He didn't need words to confirm who did this, but he remains paralyzed in fear.

He tries to swallow the lump that lurks up his throat, but he can't take it anymore.

For the first time in front of anyone, he sobs. Hysterically.

Arthur and Francis pause at the unexpected gesture. Alfred is easily triggered, but it never came to this unless he was being terrorized himself. But now - he's hypervenilating.

He's screaming. He's trembling. He's in immense emotional pain.

Arthur cautiously walks over to his younger brother, kneeling down next to him. Not being excellent at comforting, he simply puts a hand on his shoulder.

Alfred goes silent for a moment, and without looking up, he wraps his arms around the Englishmen and burrows his head into his shoulder, his sobs accelerating in volume. Arthur is even more stunned by this, but is quick to return the embrace, shushing him and rocking back-and-forth in hopes of bringing some comfort.

Francis soon accompanies the two, Alfred wrapping either arm around both of them.

Neither of the three were aware of what was going to happen from this point.

* * *

" _Used to spend my nights out in a barroom, liquor was the only love I've known..._ "

Ringing is the only sound able to enter Yao's ears. However, he swears he can make out a melodic acoustic guitar silently strumming.

He hears a voice, as well, but it comes off as humming.

" _But you rescued me from reachin' for the bottom, and brought me back from being too far gone..._ "

In the process of regaining consciousness, the humming becomes vocal. The strumming of strings on the guitar become more fluid.

With eyes still shut, he mentally admits. It sounds exceptionally nice. But who is singing?

" _You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey, you're as sweet as strawberry wine, you're as warm as a glass of brandy, and honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time..._ "

As his eyes slowly begin to spout open, Yao's vision is blurred at first glance. But by lulling his head toward the direction of the music, he can make out a tanned, golden-haired figure.

Alfred.

He's sitting in a chair beside the hospital bed Yao lays in, looking as if he hasn't slept in days, but was somehow able to pull this off.

" _I've looked for love in all the same old places, found the bottom of a bottle always dry..._ "

Yao cannot comprehend what he's seeing. Or rather, what he's hearing.

Alfred is notorious for vocal chords so strained and off-key that it was deafening to hear him sing most of the time. But this time, it wasn't. When he wasn't screaming, or rapping, his voice was soft and animated. Like a choir of the heavens, a soft lullaby a mother would sing to her newborn.

Is it just because he's assumingly tired? Or is it a natural talent...

" _But when you poured out your heart I didn't waste it, 'cause there's nothing like your love to get me high..._ "

Yao finds himself in a trance, seduced with the melody dancing within his ears. His head remains resting on the pillow, taking advantage of the tranquility within the atmosphere. He observes Alfred's lips move with every word, and the fingers plucking the strings attatched to the instrument.

It's remarkable how someone could be so perfect.

" _You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey, you're as sweet as strawberry wine, you're as warm as a glass of brandy, and honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time...you're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey, Tennessee whiskey...Tennessee whiskey._ "

" _ **Wo a ni.**_ "

Alfred's sudden jolt of shock almost causes him to drop his guitar. How long had he been awake? Was he listening this whole time? But he quickly pushes away those thoughts.

"I thought you'd never wake up..." Tears form in Alfred's eyes, slowly placing his instrument to the tiles beneath him.

Yao can feel tears forming; hot and uncalled for. Before either of them know it, Yao is jumping out of the bed and throwing his arms around Alfred in a tight hug, burrowing his face into the crook of the other's neck. Arthur, Francis, Kiku, and Matthew watch the emotional exchange, unsure if it's their place to speak out to them.

Alfred is startled at first, and just as he's about to return the embrace, Yao is just as quick to pull away, replacing the gesture with a passionately desperate, long-deprived kiss. Right on the lips. Completely unaware of the audience.

While Alfred would just LOVE to return the affection, he, however, is all-too conscious about the nations gathering around the door, and shoves Yao away immediately.

The elder is about to inquire the sudden repelling; throat filled with a list of choice words.

But before anything has the liberty of spilling out, he notices a distracted Alfred, looking away and towards the door. Following the hint of Alfred's gaze, he is no sooner greeted by Kiku and Matthew, who merely stand at the edge of the bed, completely stunned and confused.


End file.
